


Always the Tone of Surprise (or) Happiness can be Found, Even in the Darkest of Times

by E_N_Lance



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, F/M, Frequent Explicit/Vulgar Language, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:15:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28510278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/E_N_Lance/pseuds/E_N_Lance
Summary: Harry's year have finished college and only have one more task to complete before they move on. The Prom. What happens when Hermione and Harry are blissfully AWARE of their attraction to each other and all pretences are dropped at the Prom? Answer: this story. Muggle Harmony AU. Harry and Hermione Centric. M-Rated mainly for language but some adult situations.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Kudos: 5





	1. The Prom

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own the story or the characters of Harry Potter, this work is entirely fan-made. The rights to everything Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. I also have no beta or proof-reader (at least not a human one) so expect some mistakes from time to time.  
> This will be an ongoing story with no cemented upload schedule and a whole list of ideas that I want to use, but probably won't get the chance to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own the story or the characters of Harry Potter, this work is entirely fan-made. The rights to everything Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. I also have no beta or proof-reader (at least not a human one) so expect some mistakes from time to time.

\--AtToS--

Hermione knew that her mother would fuss over her dress, on this, the most 'important day of her schooling life'. Sarah Granger was running about the house with various items: cameras, phones and eventually, the thing that Hermione had asked for. Her handbag. The little bag that would barely conceal her phone, let alone any of the numerous other things that her mother had wanted her to take. The telltale sign of embarrassment from any teenager came up from her chest and into her cheeks, a rosy hue that barely messed with her complexion. And though her mother had always insisted that she was beautiful, tonight was the only night she had felt like it in a long time. Gone were the veritable mountains of books that no matter how they grew, always seemed to fit into her rucksack. Gone were the slumped shoulders and the determined look of her academic self. Tonight, the bag fitted into her hands with no effort or weight and her demeanour was replaced with that of a nervous wreck. Tonight, she had been almost caked in makeup, proudly done by her doting mum and promptly sniggered at by her dad, David. On reflection, Sarah had realised that she had gotten carried away in presenting her daughter, but only when David had said "Sarah, we aren't trying to marry her off to keep the honour in our family, so don't dress her up like Mulan. Besides, I think Hermione wants to be able to feel her face tonight." He leaned on the doorframe of the bathroom and sipped some tea to prevent himself from making any other comments after Hermione had flushed red without the help of makeup. "Well, if your father thinks that, it is the kindest compliment he could give. But… do you feel like you need less help? I can stop if you would like me to." Hermione clasped her mother's hands in her own. "Please do. I don't want to look like a clown tonight, especially if the whole class is going to be there. And someone I'd like to see." Sarah Granger backed off, and when Hermione was finished and had come stepping gingerly down each step on the stairs to avoid tripping, the older woman burst into tears. "You look absolutely stunning, exactly as I planned." Her father came over and pressed a kiss to his daughter's forehead. "I have to agree with the waterworks. You will be seen as the beautiful young woman that we know you to be." She hugged her parents, holding back tears, which, had she applied her mother's mascara, would have run and made black streaks down her face.

\--AtToS--

"Yeah, I'm nearly ready, mate. Hold on. I need to do this tie to impress…" Harry said around the corner to his flatmate Ron. He trailed off. His ginger friend poked his head through the doorframe and raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, who?" He said, slightly muffled by the overflowing toothpaste in his mouth. Harry sighed and shook his head at both the question and his friend's odd habits. "Nothing, I didn't say who. Besides, I'm pretty sure you're just messing around. You know exactly who I mean, don't you?" The other boy cocked his head from his place at the door. "Oi, you ain't planning on asking out my sister again are you?" Harry groaned and flicked Ron with his incomplete tie. "No! I told you, she already rejected me and I moved on. Besides, that was two fucking years ago!" His tone and use of profanities led Ron to believe the opposite. "Tell you what, you get a girl's number tonight, one that isn't Ginny's, and I'll believe you. Lavender'll be with me the entire night, so I have to trust you to not to do it. And take another bird home, I'll give you some privacy." He punctuated his retort with a wink and Harry grimaced. Ron's dirty mind and unashamed humour were sometimes charming and funny, now, not so much. Not with the fate of a relationship entirely up to one man, whose only source of advice was from him. "I need to be the person she wants tonight. Gentleman, gentleman, gentleman." He recited his mantra for the evening as if sticking to it would somehow alleviate some of the nerves in his chest and bile rising in his throat. But, instead of brushing his teeth multiple times, he might just use a mint.

Taking Ron's car to the prom was an… interesting affair. Ron and Lavender were in the back seat of it, tongues already darting down each other's throats. To keep his eyes on the road, therefore keeping his provisional license, Harry kept the light from the pull-down mirror on. Whilst normally a fairly reckless thing to do, the roads were calm tonight and the view of the backseat was far more blinding, in that he wanted to immediately sew his eyes shut. The dancing lights of the lampposts whizzing past were enough distraction too, helping keep his focus on the road, not at the organism forming from two humans in the backseat. Thankfully, no crashes befell them and Harry had managed to hold his stomach from throwing his lunch over the dashboard by the time they arrived at the venue. To give credit where it was due, the school had done a major favour to earn the trust of a luxury hotel nearby, as it was stunning, even from the car park around the back of the hall. When the door snapped closed from Harry shutting it, Ron and Lavender fell apart, breathless from their alien mating ceremony. Giving them a few moments to readjust themselves into accordance with the proper dress code, Harry waited by the entrance, nervous to see the one person who he had dressed himself up for.

To his dismay and relief, she had not arrived, in fact, only seven people were there already. Two of them were Neville and Hannah, his genius best friends. Hannah had taken one of the same courses as him, and Neville had been a friend since they were in primary school together. It still amazed him that he had stuck by him all the way through high school and college. With a wave to Harry, they beckoned him over and introduced a friend of theirs, Luna. The girl had flowing blonde hair that seemed to reach her lower back and wore a deep blue gown with a hairpin that mimicked a raven taking flight. She was certainly interesting as Harry knew from his English class, in which Luna had never spoken to him. In fact, the only time that she talked to anyone but the teacher in the class, it was to present a piece of work, which as he had always thought, was astounding. Harry remembered that she was a fluent reader of poetry and classic books, such as To Kill a Mockingbird and numerous works of Edgar Allen Poe. Aside from his Catering course, that was his favourite subject. The elderly teacher was a crack-up, always spurring them on with witty anecdotes and embellishments on her life. One time, she was a kickboxer and if the legends were true, she had fought an actual kangaroo and won. This, paired with his intimate knowledge of fantasy novels and fiction writing were the reasons why he loved English.

After being introduced to the quirky Luna, Harry noticed Ron and Lavender come in, noticeably less dishevelled looking than they had been not five minutes before. They walked over and the ginger boy noticed immediately what kinds of foods the place was serving during the meal portion of the prom. Even though it was a mostly impractical skill, Harry had to admit, Ron's sense of smell was unrivalled in the natural human species. "Smelled the food already, have we?" He asked his mate with a slight smirk, undercut by yet another grimace. "Yep, lots of steaks, couple of fish dishes and…" he took another largely comical sniff, drawing the attention of nearby classmates and finished with "yes! Coq au Vin. My bloody favourite!" He laughed and borderline dragged Lavender to get a drink: apparently, their tongue-tying session had worn him out already. When he disappeared, Harry, Neville and Hannah exchanged comments about their exams and how they thought they had done, remarking that they were behind them and all they had to do for a month was chill around and steadily apply for uni or get a job. Once their minds had been addled by each other's thoughts on particular subjects and questions of the others, they turned around to notice that in the time they had spent chatting, lots more of their classmates had turned up, making the total headcount around the one-hundred mark. The music had not yet started, and thankfully, neither had the teachers chaperoning the event start to make sure everyone was alcohol-free. Though many people had already gotten drunk, the tutors would be able to stop anyone from getting anymore pissed than they were.

\--AtToS-- 

Hermione had darted quickly from her parent's car into the chilly air that unfortunately, was a regular for Britain. Her dress was not nearly enough protection from the biting cold, so, with hurried steps and a waved goodbye to her parents she went to go inside. But then, who should be there but Mr Draco Malfoy. His dad was high up in a car manufacturing company and had personally driven him and his posse to the dance in a limousine. "It would seem that she still wants to show her face. Really, Granger. I would've thought that someone like you would be more interested in getting a good nights sleep, ready for another Uni test that isn't due until we're actually there." His drawl was uncalled for and unneeded. Luckily for Hermione, who was on the verge of assaulting him, her favourite teacher, Mrs McGonagall was manning the door, making sure that no liquor was brought in from the outside to corrupt her students. "Mr Malfoy, would you please just present anything on your person that you've brought." He spluttered and fumbled with his blazer pocket, seemingly trying to stow something. "I don't mean to be rude Mrs McGonagall, but could I please get inside, out of the cold? I might as well greet everyone as Frosty the Snowman if I were to wait for Draco to stow his beer." She smirked inwardly and showed the elderly woman her handbag, showcasing her phone and any essentials small enough to fit into it. "Go on in, Hermione. Have a good evening, now, you earned it." She smiled and reminded the bookish girl why she liked her as Hermione strolled past Draco and his crew, along with his girlfriend Pansy, who even if she had a heart of stone and a brain made of mush, was quite stunning in her deep green gown. It made Hermione compare, if unknowingly, herself to Pansy. "I really need to up my game." She muttered to herself as she manoeuvered around the groups of friends to find hers.

As she walked around the hall, trying desperately to find them, she bumped into the Patil twins, Parvati and Padma. Both were stunningly beautiful in their opposite colours that somehow worked more and more each time she looked. Hugging each of them, they chatted momentarily, the twins gushing at Hermione's dress and appearance for this. Subconsciously, she thought that they were lying to make her feel better; clearly out of her element here, amongst the handsome and pretty. Her friends had done nothing but help her and boost her self-esteem since high school, where she was teased and bullied mercilessly for her looks, which had only started to improve, in her eyes, during her final year there. "You two seriously need to take a look at yourselves, you are the embodiment of natural beauty, which I'm pretty sure has earned at least Leanne's eyes on you, Padma. You two have fun… and I'll meet up with you later, ok." She left the two to find her usual quartet, who came into view as soon as one boy moved out of the way. There she saw the main objective for tonight and the reason she had dolled herself up: Harry Potter.


	2. The Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own the story or the characters of Harry Potter, this work is entirely fan-made. The rights to everything Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. I also have no beta or proof-reader (at least not a human one) so expect some mistakes from time to time.

\--AtToS--

He stood next to Ron and Hannah, clearly the person trying his hardest not to run from the hall with panic in his green eyes. 'Oh, his green eyes!' Hermione thought as she approached. She had always loved his eyes, the way they caught the light to sparkle and made her feel less than innocent things in her loins. She was sure that he would've had plenty of basic girls throwing themselves at him, being the only person in the whole college that never spoke to anyone he didn't know. It made him seem like the dark and desirable bachelor, one that didn't interact with anyone to look tough. Neville, Hannah and Ron were present most of the time, but even then, he looked out of place, as if he was the only one made more distant with continual interaction. That just added to her attraction and infatuation with him. Then as soon as she was a few feet away, his eyes turned to face her.

It was as if she was moving in slow motion to let him capture every single one of her exquisite details. Harry noticed that she was wearing little makeup at all. All that was present was lipgloss, making this her purest look. Her torso and legs were covered in a red dress, one which fell to her feet, nearly obscuring them. He remembered her talking about this dress with Parvati and Lavender a couple of weeks ago, but he had only ever imagined what it would do for her. Harry had always noticed her looks, but since she had been at college, she seemed more conservative and drawn in than her high school uniform would allow. Tonight looked to be an outlier. The dress curved in at her waist, making his breath hitch with excitement and her hair was held in a bun at the back of her head, using a birthday gift from one of her parents. The elegance that she exuded was that of a dainty princess, but her personality, which Harry revered more than anything else about her, juxtaposed that notion. He had always known her to be a feisty force to be reckoned with, should she put her mind to the task. This last year alone, she had helped to raise money for several notable charities, all in the space of one month. She was a public supporter of as many movements as one could think of and would not hesitate to help anyone, whether they be a friend or an annoyance. Right now though, he was focussed solely on her face, the image of pure elation that was projected upon it. Her eyes lit up as she gazed into his own, though his body did not betray the need he had for her.

Hers did though.

Upon locking eyes with her best friend, Hermione had rushed over to him as fast as her flats would carry her. Crashing into him with a hug, she realised quickly what she was doing, but didn't pull away until she felt Harry's soft hands patting the material at the back of her dress. "Uhhh… Hi, Hermione. You look, uhh… Wow." Was all that Harry could muster at this point. Neville and Hannah giggled at them and looked at each other, whispering something to one another. "Harry, you really… look great. I've never seen you look so… dashing." The couple behind them chuckled again and Neville made a gesture to mimic blindness, which made his girlfriend laugh harder. "It's so great to see you. I honestly wasn't sure if you were coming, given your attitude to social events." Hermione laughed nervously, almost praying to herself that this wasn't a dream. It took the equally nervous boy huge amounts of willpower not to say something like 'Well I knew you'd be here' or 'Well I had to see you in a dress for once.' Before he could get any words out, there came a booming voice from some speakers that were set up around the hall.

"Hello, everyone. Thank you for joining us tonight, as we celebrate you all moving on to higher places. Before the food is served and you dine at your designated tables-," the teacher was interrupted by Ron and some others whooping loudly for the mention of food, receiving a few laughs, "-we would like to show you all a little appreciation in the form of a slideshow." Some people, including Harry, winced and lots of people cheered as the sappy music started to play. There came a few introductory photos and then showed many pictures of various people around the college, talking, walking, learning and in Hermione's case working. A photo of her charity events was shown with her, Hannah and Harry all working tirelessly to help run the operation. A few cheers arose every other picture, no matter who they were cheering for. Hermione cringed at one photo that she never knew had been taken, the third one from the end. It had her and Harry reciting their pieces of English creative writing to a class (supposedly their English group) with vigour. Harry was clearly the more nervous of the two in that picture but was by no means shy. Hermione had poured her heart and soul into that recitation and had dragged her best friend along for it, recommending that she and Harry perform those pieces to help educate a lower year. A cheer came, then did the final two pictures, followed by claps and some sniffles. It seemed that the sappy music and the realisation that they were leaving college, never to see some of those people again was getting to a vast majority of the students. The teacher from before had clambered back onto the slightly-raised deck and began to speak again. "Now, please join your classmates at the assigned tables and places we have graciously been allowed to use tonight." He waved his hand and the doors opened, as if by magic.

It turned out that the teachers of Law and History had been holding the doors open from the inside of the dining hall, and showed the students where to sit. Harry was lucky to have civilised company at his table. To his left, Neville, to his right, Padma Patil and opposite him, was Hermione. As most of them were 18, some bordering on 19, they were allowed one glass of wine should they choose to have it with their meal. Harry decided against it, not being a fan of driving home even the tiniest bit intoxicated, though most of his table had raised a glass to each other, one filled with wine. As their meals arrived, each person started to eat with fervour, no-one being as hungry as the few people another table over. Ron had already dived into his fish, yet, unlike his normal sloppiness, he used a knife and fork properly without spraying anything anywhere. "Quite a feat Ron's managed, eh Neville?" His friends took a glance over to the table in question and all of them smiled with impressed looks. "I bet he's only doing it so that he doesn't make himself sick like he normally does. How do you manage it anyway, Harry? I know that you don't have to pay the bills yet, including the cleaning one, but how do you stand it?" Hermione chuckled out, throwing her nervous façade right out of the window. Wine, it seemed, was her weakness. 'That and untidy writing.' Harry thought with a similar expression to Hermione's. The dinner carried on with the same camaraderie that they had always shared, if a little bit more open, given the alcohol and some of them were known lightweights. Once dessert had arrived, everyone was loose and comfortable with each other, though Padma Patil kept shooting quick glances over at Leanne Roberts from the other side of the table, which everyone but the two of them seemed to notice. Whilst everyone else was talking and reminiscing, Harry and Hermione couldn't help but be drawn to each other from across their table and even they didn't know why. A jolt woke him from his gazing and he saw Neville with a hand on his shoulder, looking questioningly at him. "Are you coming to the dance hall yet?" He asked with a hint of a knowing grin. Harry looked over at Hermione in that red dress: perfection incarnate. She met his eyes and he seemed to know what she was asking. "Yeah, we'll come right away." He smiled once again, not breaking eye contact and made her blush.

\--AtToS--

Along the hall, there seemed to be a surprising number of people swaying leisurely to the soft beats given off by the speakers and the teachers were only at the exits, not interrupting anyone, as much as some of them needed to be. Neville was beckoned over by Hannah, who grabbed his hand and started a sort of dance, though, like most of the students they were just waving about like calm, untethered garden hoses. Harry was then left pseudo alone with Hermione, who looked more out of place than he normally was. Gently reaching out, he took her hand, which she (happily to his joy) didn't object to and made a sweeping motion for Hermione as if drawing her into his personal bubble of contentedness. They just melted into the throng of people already moving around the floor and for once, they were just two average faces in the crowd.

Then, after what only seemed like a half-hour, the beat started to lighten, but slow considerably. It was a dreaded slow-dance, clearly requested by someone, though they didn't know who. Hermione started to stumble, once she realised the music had changed to something more intimate and docile. Harry had caught her, though he made to walk away with her when a spot of genius hit him. This was his one shot to fulfil his criteria, his mantra: Gentleman, gentleman, gentleman. With a cautionary breath, he held out his hand, palm up, miraculously not sweating up a swimming pool and watched as Hermione had a short debate in her mind about whether she should take it. Even with the wine, her logical side won out and took his hand, letting him lightly caress the back of hers with his thumb, the most gentle of touches. They weren't the only ones dancing to the gentle music, as many couples and friends alike were swaying in the soft embrace of melody. Notable pairs included Hannah and Neville, who seemed too well-versed in this kind of dance to be first-timers, Ron and Lavender, despite Ron's verbal protest, and Padma and Leanne, who had finally opened up to their crushes, though it seemed it was obvious to everyone else. Draco and Pansy were also present on the floor, though not as much to dance, but more to show off his fancy suit and the dress that family money of his had bought his girlfriend. Hermione sighed, bringing Harry's attention back to the beautiful girl who was draped over him like a blanket on a winter's eve. "What's up? I'm sorry I'm not the best at this kind of dancing if that's what it is." His voice seemed to soothe her back into a trance again. Her voice became distant and longing. "I wish that we could do this all the time, Harry. It's too bad that we don't have an excuse to be this close every day." She didn't seem to realise that her secret was all but out now, then again, she was slurring slightly. "Uh, I'm sorry, what was that, Hermione?" His voice betrayed his hope and his own longing that echoed off hers.

"I said I wish we could be this close forever."

Harry was too far into this conversation to let him pass it off as a drunken mistake. "Hermione, would you look at me for a moment? Up here?" He didn't give context to where he wanted her to look, but the only place that she would want to look at that was up from her position on his shoulder was his face. Turning her head ever-so-slightly, she saw his eyes, needy, as if she could see his very soul, his wants, desires, through those piercing irises. "Yes, Harry?" She asked in her most innocent and surprisingly… sobered voice. He breathed carefully out, simultaneously blowing a lock of stray hair from her face and began the question that he had wanted to ask all night. "Hermione, would you consider going to dinner with me, as in a-," he cut off and stumbled over his words. At that failure, he turned his head away. "Date?" She finished for him with a breathy voice. Rotating his head and more importantly, his brain back into place, he nodded and gulped, waiting for her answer. The way he saw it, there was about a fifty-fifty shot that she would say yes, after all, they had been friends and best friends for years and he didn't want to ruin that. But it seemed as if she didn't mind this semi-romantic dance setting to settle into his embrace.

Mulling it over in her mind, Hermione wondered what had brought this on, then she saw it as if she was slapped in the face by the sudden revelation. They, together were closer than most couples. They knew everything about each other, and more. If there was anyone that Hermione had been expecting this sort of question from, it still wasn't him. She knew he thought of them as closer than anyone in his life. His Aunt and Uncle had not cared when he moved out to stay with Ron: they had called him a financial burden and a waste of space. Harry had told her almost 3 weeks after it had happened and even then, she was the only person that he told. She was practically family to him, but so were Ron, and Neville and Hannah. She was the one person who had claimed to be there forever: this statement she snorted at. How could she have been so blind back then? Now, she had a choice. There was only ever one real answer.

"Yes, of course. Thank you, Harry, for everything."


	3. The Argument

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own the story or the characters of Harry Potter, this work is entirely fan-made. The rights to everything Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. I also have no beta or proof-reader (at least not a human one) so expect some mistakes from time to time.

She nearly started to cry with glee at being more than just a friend. Even if she was just a- 'a what', she wondered. 'A loved one', 'a date', 'a fling'? She nearly shook her head with Harry still there, but refused the action quickly, just wanting to be in his presence. 'How could he think of us like that? He doesn't, simple.' Her mind was always betraying her like this, but she wanted to control it this time, and this time, she had it. Once the music had receded to gentle hums again, Hermione took her head off Harry's shoulder and saw his face. It showed a wide smile, almost an evil grin, but somehow showed that he was so undeniably sincere in asking her out. All in all, the night was perfect. Dancing ensued and with renewed confidence, the pair waltzed around, looking stupidly silly, but still being spurred on by Neville and Hannah, who were turning in early, given their equal states of fullness. When the clock reached 11:30, most students had decided to leave, though Harry and Hermione were still awake from the adrenaline flowing through their veins, which dancing seemed to provoke. "Harry, as much as I would like to stay, I think Ron and Lavender would rather we got going. Would it hassle you to drop me off at my house on your way back though? It's just that I would have to call my parents to pick me up and they, uh, wanted to meet the person I wanted to see tonight." Harry furrowed his brows and looked at her curiously as if delving into her mind. "Alright, as long as I can get these two home first." He nodded and lead her to Ron's car and told the other two to follow. Ron was far too tired to drive and Lavender was hanging off him like a loose piece of clothing, so Harry drove back and made sure that they were in his flat before he left for the car again.

The air had warmed throughout the prom, so they no longer had to shiver and gain pseudo-frostbite when out of the vehicle. Nonetheless, Harry gave Hermione his jacket to drape around her shoulders before they got to her house. Harry marvelled at it. His Aunt and Uncle's house and his flat paled in comparison to this one. It wasn't quite a mansion but was indeed very large and made Harry feel a familiar sense of inadequacy. Harry had just parked by the pavement, taking the keys out of the ignition and leaned back in the leather seat. It felt as if tonight was all that mattered. Hermione had a similar look of contentedness on her face as she stared at Harry, who rubbed his eyes with the sleep that had finally caught up to him. "Are you alright?" She asked with a short yawn. At his weary nod, she pressed again. "You don't have to come in and see them tonight, especially since you were just my best friend until 2 hours ago. We can do it another time." Despite her insistence on him not needing to carry on tonight, Harry shook his head and steeled himself to meet his best friend and now date's parents. A gesture he knew she was unable to reciprocate. Thinking one last time before he left the car about his parents, and how they thought of him now that he was grown up, without them, he got out of the car, shut the door and opened Hermione's before she could react. "My lady. Your castle awaits." He didn't mean it to sound so stupidly cliché, but it did, and Hermione giggled: a distinctly unusual reaction. His eyes showed his surprise with it, and she winked, garnering a cute splutter from the normally closed-off man. Shaking his head, he helped her out of the car and shut the door, letting her nearly drag him up the drive to the front steps. 'I could always make a run for it.' He thought in trepidation. Then the door opened and the opportunity had passed.

"Oh, Hermione. We thought you were going to call us when you wanted to be picked up. We wouldn't have minded, sweetie. And you are..?" Sarah asked, quickly addressing the man who was holding Hermione's hand. Seeing that she wasn't entirely certain, Harry let go and shook Sarah's hand. "I'm Harry, Mrs Granger. Harry Potter. Hermione's friend." Hermione pouted for a moment and then brightened up when she saw her dad behind her mother in the porch. "Stop it, Mum. I've already told you that Harry is my best friend and has been for nearly 7 years. I thought it was well past time you got acquainted with one another." Hermione stepped over the doorframe and led Harry by the hand into her house. Her mum shot a dirty glare at Harry's turned back which David saw and moved in front of. With a low whisper, he told his wife: "Listen, that boy is the one person she has talked about more than anything else at college and in high school. Don't try to deny her happiness just because you don't like him. Besides, unless you have some reason for not liking him, why interfere? It isn't our business who Hermione dates." Sarah grimaced and wandered over to him. "I'm sorry for being a bit antsy tonight, I wasn't being fair. Just for curiosity's sake, why has Hermione never brought you over here before if you're such great friends?" Hermione was making a slashing motion at her neck, indicating that she wanted her mother to stop talking immediately.

\--AtToS--

Harry wasn't one to be intimidated easily by bullies and adversaries, but this woman had an air about her that exuded intimidation. It was as if she was interrogating him, not simply meeting her daughter's best friend. He nearly quivered under her glare, until Hermione stepped in and told her mother off. "You need to stop, now, Mum! You can't do this with every person who comes home with me, and for your information, I brought him here because he has never met you." Her daughter's admonishing visage was enough to make anyone crumble and it was no different for her, so she stayed quiet, as was wise. "Well, I think that since introductions are done, maybe you could stay for a while and tell us about yourself, Harry. I, for one, am eager to learn about your catering course that Hermione might have mentioned and told us a bit about. If you're as good as she says, you can stay here forever and get paid to cook for me!" He said with a laugh. Harry took David's offer but gave Hermione a smile of surprise as he walked to the living room.

With the men gone, Hermione stayed in the hallway to interrogate her mother. "Alright, what was that, hm? Trying to get me to lose another friend like you nearly succeeded in with Parvati?" Hermione made to speak again but was cut off this time. "Firstly, Hermione, you will not talk to your mother that way and secondly, I don't want to lose you to some inane way of life that doesn't benefit you. Imagine how you would have been if I had actually separated you from that girl. You wouldn't be trying to change yourself or become something you are not. You are my daughter, before anything else, and I think that you need to get your priorities in order, not flinging around with some airhead that you stumbled upon as a naïve eleven-year-old." She wasn't shouting, but the tone used was sharper than a sword and twice as painful to Hermione. Her daughter's lip trembled. "How could you say that?! I am not just your daughter, but my own woman who wants to find someone who doesn't think like everyone else in the family. The only outlier in three generations has been Dad, as he doesn't want to change me. Your parents were dentists, so are you. And whilst I love you both, I don't think that it is a coincidence that Dad is also a dentist. That's what you want for me. To be an award-winning and recognised prodigy in the dental field like everyone else. Guess I have a rebellious streak in me because I want to do more than just correct teeth for a living. I want more out of my life. And right now, I want to date Harry. He is kind, sweet, compassionate, smart and my best friend." She spat, then tried to walk off into the living room to be with Harry and her father, but Sarah grabbed her shoulder and didn't relinquish her grip until Hermione turned around, tears flowing down her cheeks. "Do not walk away from your responsibilities. You can't work at a library forever, and you certainly can't get into medical school with those current A-levels. Don't throw away your life." Hermione wiped at her eyes and pried her mother's hand from her shoulder. "If you want to stay in my life when I leave, let me live it." She walked off, leaving her disappointed mother to silently fume and walk upstairs with strides of purpose.

Upon entering the living room, David Granger was slapping Harry on the back and laughing uproariously. 'At least they are getting along.' Hermione thought. Moving past the sofa and the boys, she went to get a drink with shaky hands to calm her nerves. "Oh, Hermione, sweetie? Could you get us both that recipe notepad from by the stove, please whilst you're in there?" She nodded with her back to them and went for a glass and the notepad. As the water from the tap slowly filled her glass, she shook with a sob, muffled by her sleeve that was wiping away her tears. She never knew why she got so heated with her mum about her life, but somehow it always happened. "When are you going to get a job?" She would ask. Once she had found work at the local library, more ensued. "Why aren't you taking the sciences and medicine for your college options?" She pestered. When Hermione had relented and taken biology and physics, her mum still wasn't satisfied. "Don't throw away your life." She had growled. That was the breaking point.

"Hermione, are you alright in there?" Hermione shook her head at her dad's question and noticed with a start that her glass was overflowing into the sink with a loud gurgling sound. She twisted the tap handle to stop the water and towelled off the outside of her hands, grabbing the notepad on her way back to them. "Here you go, Dad." She tossed the book onto the cushion next to him and he passed it to Harry as Hermione watched them with curiosity. Harry started to scribble in his usual scrawl, not taking his eyes off the writing and after a few minutes, ones filled with silence, interest and the occasional sip of water taken by Hermione. He was fun to watch work; he would always hold the paper at an angle, even if it made him have to strain his neck to write constantly. Without fail, he would punctuate every pause he took with a tap of the pen on a blank part of the note. Intriguing was the only word for what he was, but deep down, Hermione knew that none of it was negative, at least not to her. That is why she would fall asleep every night with at least one dream of this man. She was too far gone, but she didn't care.

"Alright, that's what I would normally use, but you can substitute… And the rise becomes… The browning is divine." Hermione almost dozed off she was so confused but each time he started a sentence, she would perk up and stare out of the window until another point came up. "So, what is the… nature of your relationship Hermione?" Her name snapped her back into reality from the dark skies outside with a jolt. "Uh.. well … you see…" She stumbled every time she tried to answer, so Harry picked up her words. "At the Prom, we were just dancing and getting frankly worn out and I asked if your daughter would accompany me to dinner next week. I hope that I don't have to fight you or her mum on this, because I- I know what it's like to not have your parents there for you and it sucks, to be blunt. I don't want Hermione to lose you or her mum, it wouldn't be fair. But if you're okay with it…" He turned to Hermione "Hang on, we never discussed any plans, did we? Huh. I think I got caught up in there." David nodded and smiled. "Well, if your skills with cooking are any indication of your worth, you might as well get knighted in my eyes." They shared a laugh and Hermione looked on in fondness. This was what her parents meeting Harry should be like. Not like a lecture on how your life should be lived.

That night, after saying goodbye to Harry, getting a daring goodnight kiss on the cheek, Hermione lay on her bed, thinking about the evening. First, her thoughts wandered to the dance, and how, after 6 and a half years of friendship, she and Harry were only just starting to notice each other differently. After all, they'd spent their teenage years seeing one another every single day without fail. Then her mind strayed to her mother as she drifted off to sleep, then she saw her mum screaming words of admonishment at her. "Disappointment! Lazy and ungrateful! Failure!" Then who should come and save her from this witch in her dreams: Harry. He was always saving her in one way or another. Recognising a spelling error, or helping to set up a fundraiser that otherwise would have failed and tonight. Tonight, he had rescued her from a reality that she didn't want to live in any longer: that her mother was a kind woman, when she clearly cared only about reputation.

\--AtToS--

Meanwhile, in the dining room downstairs, David Granger was trying his absolute damnedest not to shout for fear of waking his sleeping daughter. "You had and have no right to decide who Hermione sees and what she does with her life! You can't expect her to just blindly follow every word you feed her. She's going to be nineteen in just a few months and then, she'll realise that she doesn't need or want us to decide anything for her. Her decisions are her own. And for the record, I like Harry, he's a good man, with a kind heart and he clearly cares a lot about Hermione, enough to make sure that she got home alright when she had been drinking and enough to ask her out to dinner." His blood was boiling quicker by the second. Sarah Granger was stubborn though, enough to pass some of it onto her daughter. "What?! She's actually going to date that boy?! He isn't a medical- or any kind of professional and certainly not good enough for my daughter. She is not going to go. That is final!" She tried to put her foot down, but she was already on uneven ground with her husband and daughter, so it would take a lot more forcing to get her way. She realised it too. "You can't stop them, normally this would be my job, the intimidating, disapproving father, but the trouble is, there is not a single thing wrong with that boy. Have you seen him around here for more than five minutes? He's practically already protecting her before they've been on a single date! You need to sort this out." He was not on board with her ideas at all and made it known. Sarah was still somehow confused though. "Me? Sort what out? Hermione is the one deliberately trying to ruin her life and her career. She borderline spat at me when I told her she was going to be a dentist, so I told her off." She stood firmly rooted in her stance. David sighed and rubbed his temples. "Every time you speak, instead of using those words to apologise or agree, you make it worse for yourself. Hermione can be, and do, and see what and who she wants. And you aren't being fair to her by controlling her as you have." He wiped at his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can't deal with this tonight. I'm sleeping on the sofa. Think about what you are doing to Hermione. And think what it does to us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, normally, Mr Granger is the 'disapproving father with good intentions but a terrible demeanour when in the couple's presence' and Mrs Granger is almost the exact opposite. Now I was personally slightly... tired of this trope, though I still don't mind it either way and I haven't read too many fics with Hermione's parents being the way I have portrayed them here.
> 
> Mr Granger here is more of the classical fanon Harry type, a little slow to the draw compared with their significant other, witty but unafraid to do and say the right things. Mrs Granger amplifies the unlikeable aspects of Hermione's personality by being overbearing, controlling and unable to hold back emotions at the worst of times. I think this could lead to interesting places in the story, so I will stick with these characters for now.


	4. The Undoing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own the story or the characters of Harry Potter, this work is entirely fan-made. The rights to everything Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. I also have no beta or proof-reader (at least not a human one) so expect some mistakes from time to time.

When Harry woke up the next morning, he spotted the alarm clock next to his bed which said in bright red letters, 09:46. He had been asleep for only eight hours after he arrived back at the flat. So, with a yawn and a grunt, he reluctantly rolled out of bed and slipped on a jumper over his shirt. His limbs felt lighter, though his head had yet to catch up with his body and he nearly walked into his bedroom door before he found the brass handle. Tugging it open, he saw Ron at the kitchen table and noticed Lavender at the counter. "Morning." He said with raised eyebrows at his flatmate. "So, how was the party after you got back?" He asked with a short snigger, seeing Lavender in Ron's dress shirt, buttoned wrongly up and Ron glancing worriedly at the sofa. "You two need to work on cleaning up before you next have a…What, a... sleepover?" Harry had noticed that both Lavender and Ron's underwear were draped over the armrest of the sofa, prompting him to give them five minutes to get presentable and changed. From his desk in his room, Harry could hear them scurrying about, desperately trying to remove their various items of clothing from the floor, sofa and somehow, the lights. They were insatiable together, a supposed reason for them to stay in a relationship, but all he ever saw them do together was kiss, grope and eat. 'Maybe Hermione was onto something last night, I could do with letting Ron and Lavender have their space after all. And if this date goes well, maybe I could move in with Hermione soon.' His thoughts came to a halt. Why was he already thinking of moving in with Hermione, they hadn't even been on a single date yet, still a wild notion after everything they had been through. Little did he know, just under a mile away, Hermione was contemplating the exact same thing.

\--AtToS--

She rested her head on her hands after reading yet another chapter of her fantasy novel. 'She's lucky she doesn't have an overbearing mum.' Hermione complained to herself. Even after being protected by the thought of Harry in her dreams, she was still frightened of her mother being like this forever. She shook off the feeling, despite her obvious focus on that instead of the task at hand, getting some lunch. She thought that she might try to make something herself, but the chance of her mother being in the kitchen was too great, so she grabbed her purse and handbag and left her bedroom. She heard the telltale sign of her dad watching the weekly Sunday movies and told him where she was going. However, before she could get out the word "goodbye", her mother noticed her bag hanging off her shoulder and rushed into the living room from the kitchen, leaving her eggs in the pan on the hob. "And just where do you think you're going? You aren't going to that boy again, are you?" Hermione felt the piercing gaze in her chest and muttered: "No, I was just going out to get lunch and I might go and see Parvati and Padma afterwards." She knew from the moment that she had mentioned her friends' names that she would be in trouble, but stood defiantly, still angled toward the front door. Her mother let out a frustrated grunt of "No, you are going to come straight back after you get something to eat, do you understand me?" Hermione started to crumble under the cruel and overbearing words, letting her grip on her phone waver for a moment and it clattered to the carpeted lounge floor not a second later. "Oh, whoops. Thanks, Dad." She said as David handed her the phone and told her to get on her way. He walked her to the door and whispered to her: "Stay out as long as you need, I know that neither of us wants to be around your mother when she's like this. Oh, and if you do go and see the Patil's, tell them I said "hello", they've always been quite nice to you." Hermione nodded and accepted a kiss on the cheek, turning around and walking down the driveway to the street.

"I can't believe you, David! You need to back me up on this, Hermione is going to become one of those people, who care more about their friends and relationships than their jobs. She is-,"

"Just Stop it, Sarah! Hermione is not your toy to be controlled. She, believe it or not, is our daughter. Not your project to work on and perfect in your own eyes. She is 18 for Christ's sake! She hasn't had a single relationship that lasted more than a week, because she wants to find someone right for her. And you aren't letting her be herself and live. She told me what you said to her last night. I am appalled. 'Throwing away her life'?! Is that seriously what you think Hermione is doing by dating a nice guy that respects her and not doing everything exactly as you did. She is not you, and you are not acting like her mother! I am going with her. You still haven't tried to change, have you?" He grabbed his coat and turned Casino Royale off the TV. As he left and slammed the door, Sarah was left more confused, angry and sad than she had felt in a long time.

\--AtToS--

Just a minute later, David Granger had caught up with his daughter and walked with her to the local bakery for lunch. They had avoided talking about her mother as it wasn't a particularly nice subject to discuss over a meal. Despite the slightly sullen mood, father and daughter both smelled the delicious aromas wafting over from Gerrard's bakery in town. "Fancy a pasty Dad?" Hermione asked with a smile. "Come on, we're not animals, make it two sausage rolls." He smiled back. After ordering, they walked down to the local park and finished their lunch, which disappeared quickly. "Hermione. Listen, I don't want you to pay attention to your mother on all of this… nonsense. The reason that she doesn't like Harry is clearly not something she plans on telling us. At least, it better not be the case that she simply doesn't approve. I know that she can be stubborn too, but we all make mistakes. Just… don't let your mother get between you and Harry. On another note, here he comes now." David pointed over Hermione's shoulder to a rather annoyed looking Harry Potter muttering to himself. He obviously wasn't looking where he was going and nearly bumped straight into them, apologising quickly after realising who they were. "Oh, Hermione, Mr Granger. I didn't expect to see you here. I just came into town to get lunch; Ron and Lavender are- ahem- busy cleaning up after yesterday's after-prom party." Hermione giggled quietly as David took a moment to realise what he meant. "Ah, I could see how that would put you off your lunch. Tell you what, come with us, we were heading back that way too." Harry thanked them and nodded, trailing behind them until Mr Granger made the excuse of catching up after he had tied his shoe, leaving the two alone.

"Thanks for last night Harry, it was perfect and I won't deny that I was trying to pluck up the courage to ask you the same thing that you asked me then." Hermione blushed after saying that as if it wasn't equally as new to Harry. "But, you promise that whatever happens, we'll still be friends?" He laughed heavily and looked at her with a smile. "Of course, nothing could stop us being friends, Hermione. Ever. Now, let's get some food, I am bloody starving." So they continued at their pace with Mr Granger following them from a respectable distance all the way to the bakery. Before ordering, Harry whispered to Hermione "By the way, this does not count as our first date. Fair?" She nodded and waited for him to get his food, which he had ordered extra of for some odd reason. She looked at the two bags of lunch and made a surprised face upon his offering one of the bags to her. "Sorry, I should have mentioned that my Dad and I already got lunch just ten minutes ago… but I do love a good pasty." So, after little consideration, she took the bag and took out the bacon and chicken pasty. Biting into it with fervour, she looked as if she was trying to get crumbs and slivers of chicken all over her jacket. Harry wondered what had gotten her so anxious; she only ate like this when she was under a great deal of stress, like when she took her GCSEs. His look was enough for her to mumble "Mum's being a bit of a…" "Nag? Witch? Destroyer of Worlds?" Harry asked with a grin. Hermione shook her head and cocked it sideways at the last mention. Gulping down a bite of pasty, she asked "Destroyer of Worlds? Not quite there yet, but pretty close. Why that analogy though?" He finished his lunch and sniggered to himself. "I was just watching a ton of Marvel movies yesterday before the Prom, so I kind of have it on the brain. So, up for dessert?" He pulled out two iced finger rolls and offered one to her. She narrowed her eyes. "You seriously want me to get fat, don't you?" She said, snatching the sweet confection up.

\--AtToS--

After leaving Harry to get back to the apartment and his dreadful roommate, Hermione met back up with her dad, who was browsing through the limited movie section in their local Spar, not too far from the bakery. "Oh, there you are, I was starting to think you'd gone to the Patils' house already. Are you going?" His voice was laced with a hint of worry. "I can always pick you up when you need to come home." She shook her head and started to walk with him in the direction of her home. "I can't avoid Mum. She needs to change, and I can't let her change if I'm not there to see and experience it. So let's go home." David nodded and stayed silent pondering on how much Hermione disliked her mother at this point. 'To be honest, she hasn't been the most hospitable person in the world as of late. Pretty much since Hermione started to spend long hours in college and with friends.' That Prom night had been a glaring outlier in her attitude, and he had noticed it. Most days she was cold and just barely affectionate. That was not something that goes unnoticed for two years. 'And now she's trying to turn Hermione into her personal Sims character, controlling her life.' David Granger was tired of Sarah being so lifeless unless she was directly affected and benefited from something. Now, Hermione was aware of all of her mother's pent up anger and frustration, which she in no way deserved.

Their 'reconciliation' had been a disaster, ending up in Hermione losing the barrier that she had against her mother's aggression. It had escalated so much that Sarah had yelled so loud that even David, who stood a good few feet behind Hermione, ready to come to her aid if she needed it, felt dizzy. "You are going to be nothing more than a lazy, screwed up, stupid girl if you are like this for the rest of your life! Show some proper comportment and respect for your betters and elders! Go to your room, now!" She had screamed like a banshee to the frightened Hermione. David shook his head to rid it of tremors and grasped Hermione in a hug so tight that it drowned out the noise of him yelling at his wife for her. After releasing her from the grip, he whispered "I am going to live with my mother for a few weeks. Do you want to come? Please, Hermione, you can't live like this." She mulled it over in her mind for a moment, wiping tears from her cheeks with her sleeve and asked her dad to wait for a moment whilst she made a call. A less scared Hermione came down the stairs only twenty minutes later with a suitcase of things that she was going to take, much to the shock of her mother. "We're going to stay somewhere else for a few weeks. Don't call, don't try to get to us. And don't even think of saying anything to her friends." He walked out of the door that Hermione had exited through moments earlier with nothing more than a scowl on his face and a daughter in the car.

\--AtToS--

Meanwhile, Sarah Granger wiped a solitary tear from her face and listened intently to the car pull out of the drive. "Good ri- riddance." She sniffed, letting her sadness and anger pour out all at once. She lashed out and hit the glass table with her bare hand, cracking it and knocking chips of glass all over the floor. The lonely woman resolved to clean it up later when she wasn't spewing expletives and missing her betraying husband. With a final look towards the window, where two neighbours were peering in from over the street, she yanked the curtains shut and slouched all the way to the fridge to drown her sorrows and stoke her anger with a pack of beers.


	5. The Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own the story or the characters of Harry Potter, this work is entirely fan-made. The rights to everything Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. I also have no beta or proof-reader (at least not a human one) so expect some mistakes from time to time.

Since Hermione had left her mother's house, she had been happier, even though only three hours had passed since their argument. There was no nagging, no unreal expectations to be held up, and what was more was that her grandparents were always happy to see her son and granddaughter. Though she was glad to be out of her mother's reach here, she missed her home, the one she'd grown up in, become an adult in and found herself in. "Dad, I don't know what to make of this whole thing. It's really confusing me." David took a glance at his daughter, who was, bless her heart, trying to hold back tears from her eyes. 'This was the little girl that I held in my arms just 18 years ago? How you've grown.' He turned his head back to the road, watching carefully as trees and fences alike rushed past. "Listen, I know that it doesn't seem like the best thing for us now… and it probably won't ever be the same again. What I can tell you though, is that… as long as you have me in your life, you're never going to be alone and you'll always have my shoulder to lean on. I love you and I hope that your mother can find that she loves you as much as I know you love her. But, there is a chance, a large one… that you won't be seeing your mother very often, especially now that you have a great man to rely on, that isn't your father. And I hope that never changes for your sake." Hermione sat silently for the rest of the journey, trying desperately to fall to sleep, but failing each time she thought that slumber approached, as relaxing too much reminded her of those nights her mother used to curl up on the sofa with her as a little girl, and how she would probably never share another moment like that again.

\--AtToS--

A slam woke her as a door shut and she heard her father's voice talking to someone. Yawning, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and sitting up, Hermione saw the open door of her grandparents' house, with light streaming out of the space between her father and his mother. The warm hue that it gave off was inviting, too comforting to disagree with her sleep-addled emotions, so she dragged her body up and out of the seat, slamming her door and opening the back one. To grab her suitcase of items wasn't difficult normally, but it was heavy, under the stress of the current situation and reflecting her heart's misery. Heaving it from the leather seat of the car, she tugged the handle upwards and wheeled it towards the yellow and orange glow that seemed to seep from every corner of the doorframe it could. Before the entrance hall, though, stood her grandma, smiling wearily, seemingly hiding a melancholy frown, though invisible it was. "Hi, grandma. It's been a while, hasn't it?" Hermione collapsed into her arms, for it had been a while, almost two years to the day, August 14, 2018. It was now July 28th, and although it had been a while, her presence was never forgotten. While her father could calm her down almost instantaneously, there was something about Mrs Matilda Granger that let her stay warm, inviting, like coming home, though she far from it. Hermione and her grandfather used to affectionately call it the grandma charm, as, like magic, it was nearly impossible to explain but so wondrous that it couldn't be anything else. Her grandma closed the gap between them and nestled Hermione's head between her head and shoulders, stroking her once bushy mane of hair and making noises that could only be described as soothing and tranquil. Hermione separated from her Grandma and looked at her with tears in her eyes. "I wish we could've seen you sooner. How've you been Grandma?" Matilda smiled and shook her head gently. "Don't start small talk with me, young lady. I'm your grandma, not a colleague, speaking of which, how's the library?" This was what Hermione had missed when she was away. Comfort incarnate.

She held the cup of tea that was graciously offered by Matilda Granger with a firm grip, but loose enough to avoid breaking the mug, which had already almost happened, though Matilda intervened and stopped her son from breaking the china. Hermione's grandpa came walking into the room with a deep grin on his face, then noticed his son and granddaughter sitting on his favourite old sofa. "Oh, hello David, Hermione. What are you both doing here? Where's Sarah?" He quizzed as Hermione rushed to hug him. He gave a loud "Oof!" sound when she embraced him and made a surreptitious glance at his son, who gave back a look that seemed to tell him everything. "Ah, well, you're just in time for dinner, aren't you. Lucky for you, it's lasagne." He grinned and pulled away from Hermione, who now wore a smile herself and was drying her eyes with her sleeve. David sounded guilty as he asked his mum: "Are you sure it's alright, Mum? We wouldn't want to impose." Matilda waved it off and whispered something into Donald's ear. He breathed out and led them all into the kitchen with a conjoined dining room, where there was already a lasagne prepared and steaming on the wooden table. The whole house looked the same way as the dining room, luxurious, yet homey. It was simple and almost identical to its neighbouring houses from the outside, but it used wooden logs and varnished beams to hold everything together, like a cabin from Centerparcs. "This house hasn't changed a bit," Hermione remarked with a fond smile into the distance outside. "I wish we could have come to see you both sooner and under better circumstances. I've missed you both so much." David ate silently whilst his daughter did the catching up on her part, happily talking about college and her exams, the prom and… Harry.

"Harry." Hermione breathed again, starting to confuse her grandparents.

"Hermione, darling, what's wrong? You said this boy's name twice and haven't explained who he is." Matilda said after swallowing a mouthful of pasta. The young woman shook herself from her reverie, her perfect daydream. "Oh, sorry, what? I didn't catch that? Could you repeat it, please?" Both Matilda and Donald had seen this before and in their experience, it was best to leave that conversation until after dinner, when their granddaughter would be able to go to sleep with peaceful dreams of this 'Harry', instead of the ones of the day's events concerning her mother. "Never mind, sweetie. Just you eat up now, I doubt you've eaten since lunchtime." Hermione nodded and her thoughts drifted back to that boy, the black hair, enchanting eyes and the mind that was so uniquely… Harry's. Without noticing it, 7:30 pm turned to 8 pm, then 8:30 pm, until a cough broke her trance once more.

"Hermione, bedtime dear. Its nearly nine. You should get some sleep and put today behind you. Remember what that old tortoise told you: 'Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery and-,'" She finished the quote, having watched that silly movie hundreds of times as a kid: "' today is a gift, that is why it is called the present.' Are you always to use that line on me, grandpa? 'Cause, it doesn't feel like a gift." She got up and smiled at him, hugging him goodnight. "It only gets better from here. And we learned something. Anything we can learn from is a gift. And I'll keep saying it until you have children of your own to pass the message on to. Now, go on, I set your old room up just how you liked it and I found something that I think you might have lost. It is on your bed. Goodnight Hermione." With a kiss to her forehead, Donald left her to her devices and went to clean up the table from dinner, which Hermione's father helped with. Once out of earshot, they began their own conversation, concerning the less favourable aspects of his day.

\--AtToS--

"It got to that point then, did it?" Donald asked his son, who was tried his hardest not to break down in the presence of his daughter, who needed him to be strong now. Now more than ever. David nodded and choked down a sob that threatened to force its way up and out of his mouth, betraying his weakness. "She can't do this anymore. I can't live with it, Hermione can't be around her! She's going to snap, she's going to do something that she can't take back. She pretty much already has. I'm betting that she has already taken to starting and finishing the beers in the drinks fridge." Wiping his eyes with a sleeve and picking up more cutlery, he sighed in anguish. "I just don't know what to do, Dad, she and I have grown so far apart that I- I don't know if I can fix it. I- I don't know if I want to fix it, to try and fix her! She broke a long time ago and the cracks are starting to show. And now, I don't think that they can be brought back together." This was a new side of his boy that Donald had never seen in this household, and Mr David Granger was born and grew up in this house. This wasn't the wailing of a newborn baby, or the tantrum of a toddler or even the angsty ruminations of a hormonal teenager. This was utter despair at losing the one he loved above anyone but his daughter. It wasn't something that he or his wife had ever encountered; David had been an extremely well-behaved if a little rambunctious boy and was even a prefect in high school and not once, had they heard their son break down like this. It was downright heart-shattering. Matilda and Donald Granger were the only ones to see this side of him, for he never wanted to be weak, never wanted to be the person that couldn't support his family.

\--AtToS--

Harry Potter was a thoroughly miffed person right now, for, once he had returned to his apartment, he had not only seen Ron's door closed with a pair of women's underwear on the door handle, he had received a text from Hermione that read simply: "Please call me back when you get the first chance. I need to talk with someone…" His normal rationale had fled the moment he read the suspense marks, as Hermione wasn't one to add those into a text message, let alone need to talk over the phone asap. So, once Lavender had finally left and Ron was asleep, judging from the snores that came out of the room, he dialled up Hermione's number and heard the ringing tone until it cut off and he heard a weary "Hello?" She sounded sleepy, then again, he was the one who had waited patiently for Ron's girlfriend to stop her moaning to call Hermione. "You said you wanted to talk as soon as I could?"

"I need to speak to someone who isn't family about all of this. It's eating me up inside." She sniffed over the phone. Harry could tell that she had been crying because she sounded exactly the same way when some of the older girls had picked on her in their third year of high school and she had fled to the school bathroom. Of course, Harry couldn't enter the girl's lavatory, but he could message her and hear her sobs through the thin doors. "About what, Hermione? It's alright, you can talk to me about anything, you know that, right?" In her bed at her grandparent's house, Hermione clutched the stuffed toy otter that her Grandpa had found as she held the phone to her ear; it brought her comfort and some sense, whether false or not, of security. "It's my mum. She got so mad when Dad and I got home because I wouldn't obey her and come back as soon as I had lunch. Then I stepped out of line and told her that… that I had seen you and you bought me lunch because she forbade it. So, she shouted so loud that I felt ill," Harry gasped and made a face that could only be described as furious, which had Hermione seen it, would have her scared beyond belief. "Then my Dad stepped in and hugged me, I think mostly to drown out the scream… but then he asked me to go with him and live with my grandparents for a while. I agreed. So, I doubt I'll be able to make that date soon unless I can persuade my dad or Grandpa to drive me back there for it." She sniffed again and clutched the otter tighter. "I'm so, so, sorry Harry. I wish I could have told you before it got too out of hand for me to deal with. I just-,"

"Hey, hey. It's absolutely fine. Just knowing that you're ok is enough for me. Although, if I can, I'd like to meet your grandparents. They seem really special, especially from the stuff you told me about them." Harry said in a calm voice. Just hearing it made Hermione feel more comfortable and safe. "Well, I think that we both need some sleep. It sounds like you've had a taxing day, so please, get some rest and feel better in the morning. I'll call you around ten, alright. That's really the only time I have a break until work ends. See you soon. Love you." He hung up.

Hermione had just experienced the two little words that changed her outlook on the situation. Why should her mother dictate who she loved? Harry loved her, she loved him back, so why should it matter what she thinks? 'It doesn't matter what she thinks. She doesn't care. If she did, she wouldn't be like this.' Hermione Granger could have one of the two in her life. It was decided.

She chose Harry.

The minutes bled into hours as Hermione lay on her back, clutching that stuffed otter toy. Her fingers danced over the soft imitation fur that felt softer than the pillow she was resting her heavy head on top of. All of her pent up stress and anger had nowhere to go but back around her head. But even so, with the numerous events that threatened to make their way to her focus, only one stood out among the rest. Harry. That sweet, kind little boy that she had met in year 7, all those years ago, was now the person that loved her most in life. Her father was here, as were her grandparents, and although they were all married, Hermione felt like no one in the world had the same connection that she and that man had. So, once she nodded off, with that silly little otter clasped in her embrace, it was just Harry that permeated her dreams.

\---Six Years Ago---

It was in their second year at high school that things changed drastically for Harry. He grew a few inches over three terms, his voice started to get deeper and above all, he made more friends. Neville had been there for him since primary school, hell, since they were both in nursery. Now, he had found another person who thought like him, felt normal and was kinder than everyone else. Hermione Granger was indeed a strange case. After constantly being bullied by the older students, she had felt alone, as had he, because only Neville would talk to him. He supposed it was because he had no parents and therefore, no basis for a friendly relationship, as the only people he had grown up with were his whale of a cousin and Neville. Now, after the conversation that he had with Hermione, he remembered something that their Religious Education teacher had said. "Don't pity the dead, pity the living, and above all, pity those that live without love. For it is the most powerful force known to mankind." Mr Dumbledore was an odd and eccentric old man but had been correct, for all that Harry felt now, was love for Hermione. He felt more powerful than Superman, Iron Man and Darth Sidious rolled into one. Saying it all out loud made him more sure if he felt it possible. Hermione was perfect. An angel personified. Her radiant smile, wondrously beautiful eyes and the hair that was once the part of herself that she disliked most, now a staple of her charm were just some of the reasons that she made him feel this way. Often, Harry would be just sitting around, doing work, or watching TV, when the thought of her would pop into his head, just for a fleeting moment. And it would stay there, threatening to take his mind and most of the time, he would be able to lose himself happily to this dream. Now, it could finally be a reality, where thinking of her as a friend and loving her weren't going to make him end up with one less person in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's to hoping that I don't suddenly get a case of the lockdown blues and make everything quite this sad. However, as many people in my life can attest to, I am a MAJOR fan of romance in stories so I love developing it here. I look for it in every piece of media I consume. Jake and Amy (B99), Katniss and Peeta/Gale (The Hunger Games), Thomas and Brenda don't kill me (The Maze Runner Series), Percy and Annabeth (Percy Jackson) etc. So, when I have the chance to develop a potential relationship for a franchise I like, you better believe that I'm going to take it.
> 
> Quite obviously too, I am not a fan of the canon Harry Potter pairings and you must know that I despise the Cursed Child and everything it represents. Now, I don't agree with most of J.K Rowling's social media presence and political nonsense, but I do think that she was onto something when she said that she originally had Harry and Hermione set out to be a couple. They balance each other out nicely. But that is a topic for another time.
> 
> Thanks for reading and Happy New Year! For whenever it is for you at least. 
> 
> Also, kudos to the people who understood the Kung Fu Panda reference, one of the best animated movies of all time. I said it, so sue me!


	6. The Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own the story or the characters of Harry Potter, this work is entirely fan-made. The rights to everything Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. I also have no beta or proof-reader (at least not a human one) so expect some mistakes from time to time.

As he drifted off into his dreams, Harry hoped that he didn't just scare Hermione off with his Freudian slip, which he meant by all accounts, he just didn't want to seem too desperate or to be moving too fast. When the morning came and Harry was once again back in reality, he realised that his dreams last night were up to him to make real. The dreams of a brown-haired goddess in human form, the ones that he knew were his favourite. However, time was not something he had endless amounts of, work was. He had started a job in a restaurant called The Blue Rook when he was fifteen, lying slightly to the manager, who he knew already to be a kind and forgiving person when asked about his age. Normally, you weren't supposed to have a proper job until you were out of school and the age of sixteen, but when Uncle Vernon tells you to do something, you do it regardless. His instruction that day had been to get out of his sight and start acting your age. So Harry went one step further, he asked to move in with his friend Ron as soon as they both turned seventeen, which would have been ages away and a long stretch to go to just to spite his Uncle and Aunt, but they would just have easily said good riddance. Or, they would have, were they not totally shocked by Harry's departure from their house on the 4th of August after his seventeenth birthday.

Harry had worked for the job, the money and the standing he had within the restaurant all on his own, but he only ever had to pay half of the rent for the flat that he and Ron shared, as somehow, Ron managed to scrape together the amount each month. Once or twice, Ron had failed to produce the money, but he had covered the cost, as a… token of goodwill. After all, Harry was the one who had not only found Lavender for Ron but also spoken to her and been his 'wingman' for their initial interactions. Looking back on it, that wasn't the smartest choice of those he had made, given that it was a fifty-fifty chance that Lavender would stay at their place after school and even most nights. Her step-father was a promiscuous drunk and so she avoided him at all costs. She didn't even know where her mother had fled to, but it had to be better than the place she described as her house. Now, it felt more like Harry was sharing the flat with the both of them and it was not easy to stomach. Ron was messy, sloppy and unorganized and Lavender was less concerned with personal space than she was with trying to steal Ron's tonsils with her mouth. And if those weren't bad enough, the fact that the flat only had one bathroom, meaning all of them had to share and having to alternate was finally the deal-breaker. Harry had decided that he needed his own flat, one where his work, school, and personal life was his to share with someone who respected him more. His eighteenth birthday was the perfect opportunity and whilst Ron had turned 18 the previous March, Harry was more aware of the growing need for space and solitude. So, taking his bag and wallet from by his bed, Harry left for work, leaving Ron and his lover to stay in bed for the foreseeable future.

"Harry, good morning. Back to the saucier station today?" Brian asked. Harry nodded and waved good morning to him, cheerily setting his bag down in the locker and grabbing his uniform. The black shirt and trousers paired with the white waist apron were to identify him as a cook, not a waiter or a patron of the restaurant out of bounds. "Harry, we need to get to work now, come over here." He went over to Mitchell, the Head Chef and got his station prepared for the first few hours, which served as a plain example of why Monday mornings were the best for a cook. No-one could be bothered to make themselves breakfast, at least, not the sane people, so they would come to the Blue Rook for a bite to eat before work. Harry had the luxury of not being needed as much in the morning, as all that he worked on were sauces, stews or sautéed foods. Although, he did have to make a fair few French Toasts and omelettes during his first hours there. "Got another two French Toasts for table… uh, sixteen. Yep." After the clock struck 10 o'clock, Harry made his way off his station, wiping it down for the next person who would use it and went over to the locker room again. Wiping his hands that were recently washed on the towel he always kept in his work bag, he went to take the apron off and call Hermione, until Mitchell walked over. "Right, Potter, I need you to get back on the sinks and wash up. Michael called in sick and you have a break, so get on it. Thanks." Disaster struck. Hermione needed him and he had promised to call, but his duty called. So he was in a bind. "Uh, Mitchell, Sir, I was hoping to call my g.., friend. I kinda promised her that I would call now." He winced as soon as he said it. Harry was being too trivial for Mitchell's liking.

"Right, counter-offer, you do the washing, and you don't get a pay deduction for the hour. Fair enough." Mitchell Johnson was known for having a short-fuse but never expressed anger through shouting or scenes. He would slyly imply something to a person, and the task he wanted doing was done, without question. No-one had bothered to stand up to him and recently, he'd been through a divorce and was still angry, so the approaching was not possible. "But, I told her that I would be there for her. She's going through a tough time." Brian O'Connell's eyes widened and the rest of the locker room went silent. Even George Fredericks, the supposed thickest guy in the kitchen knew that Harry had crossed a line. "You know, I am not known for my patience or my lenience. You need to do your job, not obsess over women that will distract you and fail you. And do you not think that other people have tough times?! That other people don't get pushed around enough?!" Harry hung his head in defeat and threw his apron back around his waist. "I'll get right on those dishes, Mitchell." His voice betrayed the venom in his veins that he directed at the Head Chef. "Sir!" He growled. Harry was feeling slightly pent up and cocky it seemed, so he pushed further. "There's no need to call me 'Sir', Mitchell." A loud gasp came from Amy Higgins, the Chef de Partie from even inside the kitchen. The chef in question's head whirled around to her which made her fall silent. "Potter," he spat. "You will do those dishes, and stay behind after your shift is over. The Manager will hear about this." He stalked back off into the fray of busy cooks, leaving Harry to glare after him. 'If only looks could kill.' He thought. Brian was still staring at the back of Harry's head. "You fuckin' idiot, mate. Well, it was nice knowing ya." He laughed and gave Harry a jokey pat on the back. "Seriously, though, if he tries to fire you, I think every person in this restaurant will vouch for you. I'm willing to bet that with a repertoire like yours, you'll have the support of the regulars too." Harry smiled for a fleeting moment and left his phone in the bag that got shut back up in his locker.

\--AtToS--

Hermione had resigned to playing games on her phone and looking through some old photos. Harry had promised that he would call over 45 minutes ago. He hadn't even left a text to say that he couldn't call. She was still confused and hurting from what had happened yesterday with her mother. Several of her photos were with Harry. Though he didn't like having them taken all that much. One of them was when they were just starting out at college and they had been caked in snow from head to toe before getting home from their bus stop. Another was them at the college welcome evening for new students just last year. They had both been helping out their tutors and had gotten lost in their duties to them. They would try to help everyone they could, and they always managed it. Matilda Granger came in to bring Hermione some soup from dinner, when she saw her lying on her bed, a frown on her face, though she slept peacefully with her phone still clasped in her hands. She saw the screen, with a message displaying her low battery and a photo behind it. There she was hugging a boy who she supposed meant a lot to her, as the Hermione in the photo was wearing a wild blush, unlike the unhappy girl in front of her right now. "He'd better be worth your suffering sweetheart." She took the tray and bowl with her closing the door gently so as not to wake her.

\--AtToS--

Harry left his post and thought of going home, but upon realising that he'd probably be fired anyway if he went straight home, he glumly waved to Brian and knocked on his manager's door. "Come in." he said from the other side of the door. 'Good, she seems to be in a good mood.' He thought with a shallow smile. He took a breath and squeezed the door handle, twisting and pushing it open. Surprisingly, Mitchell was not with her, but clearly, he had set this meeting up. "Mr Potter, I have heard of a complaint filed against you from the Head Chef. I have heard his side of the story, now, tell me yours." Harry gulped and relaxed; she seemed calmer than he had thought. "Well, it started this morning after my first shift." He recounted the events leading up to and including the verbal back-and-forth with Mitchell, leaving out the specifics of who his friend was and why they needed him.

"So, that's sort of... well, it. I went to work on the dishes and I tried to avoid him as best as I could for the rest of the day. That brings me to now." He was getting slightly heated just from thinking of the unfairness. She seemed to be looking at something else on her desk that was covered by another piece of paper. 'Likely his story from today. The lying bastard.' He thought with malice.

"Well, the good news is, as far as I can tell, you were in the right. He didn't have a right to dock your pay for any amount of time, so you can have that back on your check. Secondly-,"

"Wait, what?! I thought he was just threatening. He didn't tell me he'd actually done it yet!" Harry fumed, murder etched of his face. Mrs Burbage raised her hand to stop him and shot him a look of warning. "Here's the thing. Mitchell Johnson has been sour ever since his appointment. I don't entirely blame him for his demeanour, however, I can fault him for doing everything since then that he has been reported for. I assume you don't know how Phillip got his injury from that fryer last month?"

Harry creased his brow with confusion. "He told the chefs here that he fell and tried to stop his fall with his hand and accidentally got it caught in the deep-fryer. Is that not what happened?" Charity shook her head. She then pulled out another document and opened it to a back page. "This is all of the reports filed by employees and customers towards Mitchell Johnson. The most recent, bar the one you could make, is the one of Phillip's after he came back. It was purposefully not made public. The gist is that our resident, angry Head Chef stormed out, knocking Phillip into said deep-fryer. Then told him to watch where he was going and get back to work or he would…"

Harry finished for her: "Tell you?" She nodded in response

Harry's eyes bugged out and he slumped back in the chair. "Is there any lasting damage on him?" She shook her head. "Aside from a small scar on the palm of his hand, the burns have healed. He still didn't want to come back after he reported it though. Anyway, Mr Johnson has had several complaints made about him for a while and I'm afraid that this one kind of takes the cake. For what it's worth, I am incredibly sorry for what happened and how he handled it. Don't worry though, you will make it through this as unscathed as I can manage. Thank you for bringing yet another one of his issues to light. It was quite brave of you." Harry smiled and was excused. He gathered his things in his bag and left through the back door.

\--AtToS--

On the bus ride home, he realised a crucial detail that he had accidentally left out of his day. Hermione. His call could have been answered at lunch, but he was too focussed on the pity party that he had thrown himself for pretty much that entire reason that he forgot about her. Once he got back to the flat, he greeted Ron and Neville, who were sat on the sofa with a full stack of pizza boxes shared between them. Neville mumbled something that sounded like "Want a slice before we eat it all?" though it was hard to distinguish between that and "Wa sis fo we ee I all?", so he just nodded at them, telling them to give him five minutes. When through his door, he locked it and dropped the bag on his bed, forgetting the thing for now. His desk chair beckoned him with a cold seat, so he planted himself on it and punched in the numbers of his password on the laptop screen. The video-chat website was already up and so all he had to do was select Hermione as the recipient. It rang once. Then twice. Three times. "Harry?"

Hermione looked worked up and tired, judging by the messy hair and drooping eyelids. "Hermione. Damnit, I am so sorry for missing the call. I was at work and Mitchell told me to use my break time to do the washing up 'cause Michael's sick. Then I got caught up in the rest of my work and it all got out of hand. I'm so sorry." He blurted out, getting more flustered by the second.

"Harry, I'm not that mad. In fact, I feel more rested and less worked up than I was yesterday. I just wish that you could have been able to tell me. But, I understand that it wasn't your fault. Anyway, I wanted to talk about our dinner plans." She pursed her lips in anticipation. He looked surprised through what she could ascertain from the image on the screen. Then he smirked.

"I was supposed to be asking you about that earlier, again, sorry. But, um, go ahead. What did you have in mind?" He inquired with a smile on his face in the dim evening light. Hermione looked more pleased than he had ever seen her, even more so than when she had won an award in college for outstanding achievement in charity work. "What, you didn't think that I'd cancel on you, did you?" Harry asked, beyond surprised.

"I just didn't think that you'd have time, especially since I don't think that I'll be living with my mum anytime soon after what she's done to us." Hermione's smile faltered and she looked away, trying to wipe a tear from her eye without her friend noticing. She failed at the surreptitious part and caught Harry staring back at her in sympathy. She sniffed again, feebly attempting to chase away the tears and pain by distracting herself with Harry and his wonderful green eyes.

"Hermione, I will always make time for you. No matter where you are, or how far I am from you, I won't stop thinking about you. Don't forget, you're the smart one in this relationship. Not me." He chuckled and succeeded in putting a grin back on her face. "I'd travel to the ends of the earth for and with you. You know that, right?"

Hermione sniffed again and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue that was on the table. Coughing to clear her throat, she startled Harry and made him sit up straight, intently listening to her. "You look just like a jumpy puppy. I coughed and you looked at me like the world would end." Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head, still letting a smile shine through the lens to her.

"What can I say, I don't want you to be ill. Besides, that was pretty loud, are you sure your grandparents can't hear you through the walls?" He chided as she stuck a tongue out at him.

"They're asleep by now, so we are all alone. I wondered whether I could come and pick you up later tomorrow evening for a meal at… oh bugger, what's it called, the blue raven or something. I know it was a bird name."

"The Blue Rook? The one in town?" He raised his eyebrows and held his breath, hoping that she didn't mean his restaurant.

"Oh, yeah, that's the one. How did you guess." She had an evil glint in her eye that betrayed her thinking, even if she hadn't said much.

"You know that is where I work. You are doing that on purpose, aren't you?" He asked with a flat tone and a deadpan. She nodded hastily and told him the specifics of their date.

"Fine, just as long as we don't linger and can leave as soon as we're finished." He reasoned. Hermione pretended to mull it over for a moment and put on a comical thinking face.

"I do believe that we have reached an accord, Mr Potter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short disclaimer, though I am slightly familiar with some places in my home country, I have purposefully based this story in an unspecified area of Britain/England because if I picked a specific place, I would have a lot more research to do and a lot of areas to comb through to make sure I didn't butcher any place names. So, for that reason, assume that this world is governed by the laws of England/Wales and that I do not know where specifically my story takes place.


	7. The Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own the story or the characters of Harry Potter, this work is entirely fan-made. The rights to everything Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. I also have no beta or proof-reader (at least not a human one) so expect some mistakes from time to time.

Harry glanced nervously at his watch again, the same one that Mr and Mrs Weasley, his best friend's parents had given him just hours earlier for his nineteenth birthday. The timepiece shone in the light of the restaurant, gleaming with a bronze glow. Mrs Weasley's brother, Fabian Prewett had once worn this watch and had passed it on to his sister when he died. It made him feel like he had a family again.

Of course, the Weasley's had always been nice and kind to Harry, without showing the heaps of forced sympathy that could have come with the job. They loved him unconditionally, even though Ron's brother Percy had nearly socked him in the jaw when he 'broke his little sister's heart'. He still had a good rapport with the rest of the family though, even the estranged man, Charlie, who was studying rare and endangered animals and flora in Albania. His family weren't the most welcoming of him when he came back to England with a boyfriend after being away for nearly 5 years too, but they eventually got over it and he was asked back to introduce Michael to them all. They had been cordial and accepting of him since.

Harry knew that all of them were happy with him being a pseudo-family member and it brought more joy to him than anything he had ever known. That is why he had nearly burst into tears and/or song when the nine of them, not a single person missing had presented him with that watch that belonged to Fabian. They had given him a permeant spot in their family, their house and their hearts, even if Ginny still harboured some recognition of annoyance toward him.

Harry looked up and shook the pleasant memory from his head, seeing that someone had turned up next to the table.

"Oh, Harry, you are here! I hoped that I would be serving you tonight. This will be fun!" Harry sighed as he met Theo's eyes with an exasperated look.

"Seriously mate, can't you get anyone else to sub for you? Amy, or Brian, or hell, even Cassie, but don't tell her I said that?" Theo Davies laughed and shook his head, indicating his answer.

"Nope, Cassie took the night off, Brian is working on your normal station and Amy is swamped. I think that Mitchell might have been fired by Charity, he stormed out earlier, during his shift and no-one has seen him since. Thanks for that, by the way, he was a nightmare, especially after your argument." Theo nudged Harry's shoulder and gestured towards the host's stand, where a beautiful woman was standing, clad in a deep blue dress and wearing a sparkling necklace of white gems. Her hair was tied up into a bun and short ringlets were hanging down from it, accentuating her figure from the neck down.

"Is that your date, man? Christ, she's a looker, isn't she? Go get em'." Theo whispered to Harry whilst he got up and grabbed his jaw from its resting place on the floor.

"Uhh, Hermione? Are you sure that's you? My God, you look absolutely enchanting. Please, let's go…" He stopped short as he noticed her dress with a new angle; it was embroidered with silvery thread that shone as bright as the copper on his watch. The view was incredible, a sight for sore eyes, as Theo so aptly asked a few moments later as he was leading the two to the table. Sitting down, the sight of the dress, bar the top half and her necklace was obscured from view, though Harry's eyes lingered only on Hermione's face. If she was wearing any sort of makeup aside from the minimal blush and eye shadow, he did not notice, though his gaze followed her bright eyes. Though they were a deep brown, a colour not too dissimilar to chocolate, they shone with a renewed sense of wonder that could only be from seeing her friend.

"I'm sorry that I'm a bit quiet, you know how nervous I can get. I just-, I don't want to mess up and have this turn out to be a disaster and you hate me and then…" She said in quick succession. The nerves were almost charming to Harry, as they trumped his own ten-fold, but… He hated seeing Hermione like this, unlike herself: the one who obsessed over learning, helping people and above all, being the best person she could for the people around her. Although to counter this, Harry had a single thought, nay, a plan in his mind.

'Reverse the roles.'

\--AtToS--

Hermione had looked around the car park, anxious to see if Harry's car was already there yet. Though she knew it was technically his friend, Ron's, she knew from a little eavesdropping after college that Ron had already been banned from driving if he didn't attend a safety course, as, multiple times in fact, he had been caught speeding, even if it was under intoxication only once. Luckily no one had died in those instances, but he had got his just desserts. With glee and some degree of nervousness, she saw the dark green Volkswagen, remarkably in the normal spot, not the employees'. She mentally slapped her forehead in realisation: 'He obviously isn't working there tonight, he is just plain, old Harry. My Harry.'

So, upon entering the restaurant and seeing Harry in a smart shirt, formal jacket, and with no buttons undone, she sighed in both relief and contempt. She could practically hear her Grandfather now: 'Oh, she's got it bad, Matilda. Go get 'em, sweetheart.'

She smiled to herself and approached the stand, where Harry and a waiter immediately came to as well, both looking dapper, but Harry the more casual of them. Hermione saw Harry stop and felt his eyes raking all over her. Had it been anyone else, she would have broken their nose, just like Draco Malfoy in Year 9, but it wasn't. It was just Harry, the one she dolled herself up for, the entire reason for her wearing the expensive necklace and silky dress that Grandma had loaned her for this special occasion.

\--AtToS--

Harry stuttered and the waiter sniggered at him whilst leading them to their table, obviously amused by the befuddlement shown on both of their faces. He could tell that they were both out of their element, clear as day; they couldn't hide it well, after all. He left, his large frame shaking from laughter, with their drink orders ready to hand to someone. 'Hopefully someone behind the bar who can get us nice and drunk to forget that exchange' she thought with a blush adorning her pale cheeks.

"So, are you ready to finally begin this? It's been a long time coming, hasn't it?" Harry whispered softly, clasping her hands in his.

Harry had taken her hands in his own and finally started a conversation with his date. His extremely beautiful and wildly out-of-his-league date. To say that they were both nervous and extremely happy was an understatement, and they could both see it painted onto their iris' like a work of anxious art.

"I have to apologise for two things tonight, Hermione. Firstly, in advance, I am sorry for what Theo -our waiter- will be saying. Most, if not all of his conversation outside of 'here are your drinks/dishes' will be work anecdotes about me. He may also be quite open about how he makes fun of me, but I assure you, I can handle that." Hermione looked amusedly at him and nodded along, accepting that there wasn't a way out of the teasing, gawking and laughing tonight.

"It's perfectly alright. As long as I know the real you, it won't matter. Besides, I don't think that anything he says about you here can be nearly as bad as what I've heard about you at school. And in college. But that's all for another time. Now, what are we ordering, I'm starving."

"Well, the steak sounds amazing, but I don't know if I should. It's a tad expensive. The smoked salmon too…" She muttered to herself, unaware that Harry was watching her with an amused gaze. He tried to stop her multiple times, but she kept getting flustered and poking her nose back into the menu.

"Hermione, please, order anything you want. I have someone on the inside here, plus, I know the best dishes, and the steak…" he pressed three fingers to his lips and drew them away. "is fantastic here. Trust me, ma Belle." He intoned, counting himself lucky that he didn't mess up the pronunciation. Her eyes grew wide with shock.

"French, mister? What makes you think that gains you any points, hm?" She put her hands on her hips and tried to hold back a laugh and the blush creeping up her neck, the latter failing.

"Did it?" Harry pried, a smirk on his face.

"Just this once. By the way, you might want to take up French classes if that is how you want to play this little game. But I'm fine with English."

Their dinner arrived only half an hour after ordering, something that the restaurant prided itself on when advertising, so Harry and Hermione both ate their meals with the same fervour that they displayed when bantering with each other. Hermione avoided drinking too much wine with said dinner, but still drank 2 glasses along with her medium-rare steak. Harry, on the other hand, was driving them both home and so he avoided alcohol, even with his meal, leaving him less confident to counter Hermione, now that she was cheering up and sounding more cohesive, even with a few minor slip-ups. Every time she took a bite of her meat, she would sneak a glance at the boy opposite her and catch his eyes lingering on her face. Had he been less discrete, she would have thought him mildly intimidated, now though, it was plain to see that he was utterly baffled.

"Harry, are you alright? You seem a bit… distracted. Is there something on my face?" She asked with a whisper and a giggle. 'Damn, its back'. She thought as the un-Hermione-like noise came from her mouth.

"Nothing's wrong, I just can't believe that after all this time, we're finally on a real date. I don't want it to end, or for you to go." He tried to say it with less of a sad tone and more of a romantic or sultry one, but it came out just as desperate as he had hoped it was not. Hermione cocked her head and put down her fork, looking at Harry's eyes as though peering into his heart, searching for even an ounce of insincerity. She could find none.

"Good, because I don't want to end this quickly either. I'm in no rush to be away from you." The time was starting to get to the both of them, as was the meal and Hermione's wine. Luckily they were minutes from finishing and had Theo come over to present their bill. Hermione left to go to the ladies room as Harry paid.

"Just put it on my card. Oh and Theo, here's your tip." He gave the man a 10-pound note, crisp from his wallet. "I don't mind, besides, you've been... tolerable tonight, so here you go." A look of shock and admiration came from the waiter.

"Very well Sir. Just know that I will be bringing this up on Tuesday when you next come in. And everyone else will hear about the sweet things you did tonight." Theo said with a mischievous grin. Harry opened his mouth to respond but looked confused.

"I wasn't being that different for Hermione tonight, besides, how would you know what to compare it to?" Theo laughed lightly at him.

"No, I meant how sweet you were to me. Tolerable? I think I might go and cry tears of joy!" He mocked.

When Hermione returned, she was ready to leave and still looked gorgeous in her dress. The blue rook wasn't exactly the right place for it, at least, not on the lower floor. The second and third, however, were just right for it. The rest of the patrons, along with the pair, would not have looked out of place at a royal ball, let alone this restaurant. "Are you ready to go, Harry?" She asked, trying desperately to save him from the conversation with this 'Theo'. He seemed nice enough, but with Harry's track record, he was likely getting mercilessly ribbed about being here on a date. Harry mentally shouted a thank you to Hermione and she nodded as if she understood exactly what he had thought.

"Yes, let's leave, quickly." He scrambled out of his seat and lead Hermione from the restaurant. Upon looking back, Theo had a grin to match the Cheshire Cat, one that filled Harry with embarrassment, for he knew exactly what he was going to do.

\--AtToS--

"You do realise that he is going to tell everyone in the back and probably more about us, right?"

"Yeah, but why should it matter, you aren't embarrassed to be seen with me are you?" Hermione replied timidly, with a near whisper. Harry realised what she had thought and sprung quickly into action to repair his stupid mistake.

"Uh, no no no… no I just didn't think, that's all. I mean, I forgot for a moment that I was supposed to be taking it easy, being confident and it slipped my mind that they don't know you. I was being selfish, I'm sorry." He looked down at his shoes and suddenly found the pavement very interesting. What he didn't see was that Hermione had her hand to her mouth, trying not to let out a laugh. But then, a sudden absence of sound came to his ears and he turned, seeing Hermione slightly hunched over, clearly trying to suppress something.

"Oh, find something funny, did we?" He asked, feigning a mortal wound to his chest, or as Hermione saw it, his pride. Before she could answer, a shadow emerged from behind the nearest car in the park and started to charge towards Harry.

\--AtToS--

Whoever it was, they were fast, angry and well disguised, having brought a black mask and a hood to obscure his face. Harry didn't have time to react before the person crashed into him and started to rain down blows on his, well everywhere. Hermione was momentarily stunned and looked on horror before quickly snapping back to the scene in front of her.

"No, Harry!" She cried, before running over and pushing the assailant off her friend. He got up and tried to run at her with a roar in his throat, but he tripped over Harry's outstretched arm, which was already caked in dirt and dust. The man fell to the asphalt and a sickening crack sound came from his hand. Hermione saw the telltale sign of a pissed off person, a shaking fist. The other hand, the one not injured pushed him up and clenched itself into a ball.

"I… I'll kill you. I'll kill you! You stupid bitch!" The attacker screamed. He tried to take a step forward, but Harry had managed to pull himself to his feet and grab the man's hood, effectively holding him back from Hermione. He shouted at Hermione to run and she turned… but knew that she couldn't leave him. Not now, not when he needed her. Harry shoved the man after his hood fell and he landed by an overflowing bin, where he started to grab random objects from the top and toss them with ferocity at both of them. A lighter, a half-full can of beer, box after box after box, he threw at them, yet still, Harry tried to subdue him instead of running away. When out of readily available ammunition, the masked man rushed at Harry, again crying out a bloodcurdling scream of rage which made Hermione shiver to the bone. Harry caught him in a headlock but was simultaneously pushed back into the opposite car to the wall, which started the car alarm off. Hermione again tried to rip the man off her best friend but was thrust backwards by his aggressive hands, hitting her head on a lamppost, before limply dropping to the floor.

"Hermio- ackk!" His voice was cut off as the assailant closed his hands, the broken one included around Harry's neck. He struggled and clawed at the man's arms and hands, then he grasped at the mask and ripped it off in a desperate attempt to get free.

Then he saw the crazy, malicious eyes of Mitchell Johnson.

\--AtToS--

Harry was able to get a short amount of breath back as Mitchell spluttered from his face reveal. But it was in vain, for he punched Harry in the ribs, knocking more wind from his lungs. Though, just before Harry blacked out, the back door to the restaurant burst open, revealing three of his friends and quite a few customers who had come to investigate/gawk. Mitchell was shortly wrenched from Harry's throat as the boy gasped, trying to swallow as much air as he could. He could make out the faint form of someone tackling Mitchell to the ground, and another sprawled out over by a lamppost. His glasses lay half-broken on his face and his neck felt like it could snap like a twig covered in frost. Someone came over to him and supported his weight whilst another grabbed his arms and took him over to a bench near the lamppost. Harry quickly adjusted his glasses so that the cracked lenses better aligned with his eyes, then he saw it. The whole scene.

Hermione lay unmoving, save for a slow and shallow rise of her chest. She was alive! But her left arm had taken the brunt of the force of the push to the ground, whereas her head had nastily been hit against the metal post. It oozed blood before someone came over and pressed a damp handkerchief against the wound near her temple. Theo and Brian thankfully supported his weight enough for him to turn around and see Amy Higgins pin Mitchell to the asphalt whilst the deranged man spat expletives at her and cursed Harry and 'the fucking bitch' he had assaulted. Harry vaguely heard someone on the phone to the emergency services and shocked murmurs that passed through the steadily growing crowd. Then he saw Hermione's form shift and struggle. The worried man hobbled over and crouched at her side, holding her hands as she regained some form of consciousness. Her eyes were rapidly flitting around and her breaths sounded hoarse, strained and shallow.

"Harry, Harry?!" She wailed, trying to move her neck from where it was propped up on a stranger's arm. Harry moved around to the other side of her and held her good hand, feeling the tension and fear radiate through her touch.

"It- it's going to be ok, Hermione. Please, just- just stay here… stay with me. Alright? You'll stay with me?" He asked with panicked breaths, hoping that she could hear and understand him through her obvious hazy consciousness.

"Until the very end." She breathed, then let a tear fall from her cheek, which rolled down and onto his other hand.

Just minutes later, two ambulances and a police car drove into the car park and stopped just shy of the road. Paramedics and Police Officers swarmed around the crowd, the police dispersing the onlookers.

"Alright, I need everyone to back up, NOW!" One officer shouted to the people, apart from those that were tending to the injured or criminal. He then muttered a series of nonsense that meant nothing to Harry. He assumed he was calling the station or something equally important.

"Young man, we need to get you to a hospital, now. Can you stand up?" Once paramedic asked. Harry blinked and looked at Hermione.

"Yes, but I'm not leaving her side. I won't do it." Another paramedic shook his head and muttered something like "star-crossed lovers" then nodded to another man who was ready to bring out a stretcher. Hermione groaned once she was lifted onto the stretcher, then gestured to Harry's hand.

"Please, I want to see him." She muttered, her head swaying with eyes rapidly blinking.

"I'm sorry Madam, we can't do that, he needs to be monitored himself, but you can see him as soon as you're both ready and settled at the hospital. Promise." The man seemed to be sincere, but it didn't lessen her worries or make her feel more comfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that was intense. I thought that the story needed a bit more than just relationship drama, so here you go.
> 
> Well done if you spotted the little reference to the Deathly Hallows there. James' line back to Harry. "Until the very end."


	8. The Hospital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own the story or the characters of Harry Potter, this work is entirely fan-made. The rights to everything Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. I also have no beta or proof-reader (at least not a human one) so expect some mistakes from time to time.
> 
> Before we start, I have literally no background in medicine, nor do I have any experience with any injuries this severe, but I have researched to the best of my ability with limited time and I think this works. Please excuse any mistakes that may arise in this story in regards to injuries and complex medicine.

Hermione saw lights swimming through her vision and heard sirens blaring as she sped off to hospital in the back of an ambulance, no Harry in sight. She had overheard one of the people in the ambulance throw the words 'concussion', 'minor' and 'confused' around a few times but still, her only thought was of the black-haired man that she missed so dearly on this ride. Through the chaos of tonight, she could still remember their date. How Harry had looked at her as if she was the most beautiful person in the world. The silent moments where they had sneaked glances at each other over their food. Even just the arm that was wrapped around her waist when they walked out. But all else was… fuzzy, a haze. She didn't remember specifically what had happened to them beyond a fight against some masked man. She couldn't recall how her arm became limp, painful and bent in the wrong direction. Her dress colour evaded her, though she could tell that the straps on her shoulder were slick with something and the bottom of it, near her shoes, was torn and tattered. The paramedics had apparently told her what they thought she was suffering through three times over already, yet the words slipped her mind, though she was certain that the answer was just on the tip of her tongue. As the noise of the van whirred and the lights by the stretcher spun through her head, Hermione felt sicker by the minute. Eventually, it got too much for her and she vomited onto the flimsy metal sheet that they had draped over her body. Her tears had not stopped falling the whole time.

\--AtToS--

Harry sat upright, though the nameless figures in a blurry mess had told him not to, and after multiple times, they relented and one man sat next to him to support his back. The paramedics, though he never understood what they were saying, were rapidly spitting out terms to each other. His neck, they said in normal terms at least, was bruised beyond belief and that his windpipe was lucky not to be any narrower. Several times, they relayed other terms to him that seemed like something straight out of Silent Witness or Casualty like a possible laryngeal fracture, or a bruised ribcage. They meant that Mitchell had basically broken him. Sitting up was starting to seem like their main goal to him now. There were questions from the paramedics that whizzed by him, then there was one that they asked to try and make him comfortable.

"So, how was your date with Miss Granger?" One of them said the one who was holding his back straight. Harry took a deep breath that came out more like a reverse wheeze and slowly tried to answer. Most of what he said was a hoarse whisper.

"It was good. We've been fr- friends for a lo- a long time and we decided th- that we wanted more out of our lives." He shuddered and leaned back into the hand of the paramedic.

"Alright that wasn't a good sign, I'm afraid that you may have a problem breathing, so I'm going to have to ask you to stop trying to talk for the time being."

Harry nodded and closed his eyes, thinking of Hermione and how much pain she must be in. He wanted to ask if he could see her when they got to the hospital but any effort to open his mouth was thwarted by the stern look of the lady across from his stretcher-seat.

\--AtToS--

There was a team of people waiting to escort the two to examination rooms for x-rays and tests. Hermione and Harry caught a short glimpse of one another when they were being wheeled through the halls. Harry saw her face, the right side caked in the blood that he assumed came from underneath the large sterile bandage that they had wrapped around her head like a mummification crown. Her dress, once a blue colour, from the chest up was grey from the tarmac or a deep sort of wine colour which he knew came from her blood. He tried to reach out an arm to her, but she didn't try to take it and pointed at it and drew a clear line along her elbow with her finger.

Hermione looked over with longing eyes and though she could see next to nothing through the pinpoint that her normal vision had narrowed to, she could tell that Harry's blotchy purple and red neck was not good in the slightest. She wanted to tear up again but knew that she had to be strong for his sake, for both of their sake's. They were eventually separated when they got to the room where their x-rays would be taken and finally, the doors barred them from each other's faces each painted with sorrow and pain.

\--AtToS--

"What the hell do you mean?! I am her mother! I need to see my Hermione!" Sarah Granger told the receptionist, who still only gave her an apologetic look. The poor woman was getting quite tired of the girl's mother in her face and eventually just got one of the doctors to deal with it whilst she took a breather and calmed herself down.

"Madam, as she told you, you cannot go and see either of them right now. Mr Potter is currently in surgery and your daughter is currently having a cast put on. I must stress that you have to abide by the hospital rules. And if you don't, we shall be forced to remove you from the premises until you have calmed down and they're allowed to be seen. Now, please go and sit in the waiting area. We shall call you when they are ready to be seen." His tone left nothing to the imagination, he meant it clear as day. Then Mrs Granger heard familiar voices.

"Yes, I'm sorry to bother you, but are we able to see Hermione Granger and Harry Potter yet?" The receptionist shook her head and told them the same thing that she had told the crazy lady over there. She pointed to where Sarah was sat in a terrible huff. When she saw her husband, she almost ran to him and greeted his parents with the same response, but she just looked up and met eyes with him.

"David, they won't let me go and see her yet. Oh, why did she have to go on that date with the idiotic, moronic- imbecile? She's only gone and gotten herself a broken arm and a concussion. I do hope that the two men responsible pay for this dearly!" She spat the last part out and confused the other Grangers. Donald shook his head.

"There was only one man apprehended for doing this and I'm sure he will get what the law demands. Were you told something different by the police?" Sarah held her nose up and shook her head.

"No. I'm talking about the real reason that my daughter is in that bloody cast now. That insufferable boy. If she hadn't gone to him and disobeyed me, then none of this would've happened. She wouldn't have been put in the crosshairs of a raving lunatic out to kill her friend." Most of the surrounding visitors were looking at her with either confusion, sadness or annoyance. Not to mention her fuming husband who was currently shaking with rage. He took a calming breath.

"We aren't going to argue this out here. Or anywhere else. I can't do this Sarah. I didn't want this to have to come to extremes but you and I are simply not able to work together anymore." The room could've heard the sound of Sarah Granger's heart that was shattering in her chest… if it weren't for her curses and shouting that ensued.

"You are a horrible person, David. And a terrible fucking father. You don't care about her stability or her life choices. You only care about what makes her happy, not what she needs and has to do to become successful. You must've been lying to me all this time, you never bloody loved me, did you?!" Now that she was waiting for a response from a distraught David Granger, one could literally have heard a pin drop.

"No, you're wrong. I did love you." He sniffed. "But the woman I fell in love with was not a heartless being that cared only about stability. She loved her daughter more than she cared about herself, more than she cared about success. I cannot fathom Hermione being around you, or us, when you explode. You've changed Sarah, and I do not- cannot… love the person you have become." A solitary tear ran down his cheek and with a soft plink fell to the floor. Sarah was tensing and shaking her head so violently, you would think that it might fall off. But before she could lunge for him, his mother and father stepped in front of him and a security guard grabbed her shaking wrist.

"Madam, you need to leave. Now. And unless you want to have the police involved, I would recommend that you leave this man alone." The guard said, now flanked by two others who would surely make her life a living hell by calling the police and dragging her from the hospital. With a turn of her heel, Sarah was off down the hall and in the lift before you could say attitude. With her gone, David slumped into an unoccupied seat and held his head in his hands, silently shivering with sobs. His reaction around the room was met with largely sympathetic looks, then indifference as the people turned back to their phones or books. Donald and Matilda took up a seat on either side of their son and held his shoulders as he tried to comprehend what had happened and what had gone so completely wrong.

\--AtToS--

Hours passed and they were allowed to see Hermione, cast and all. She had been able to take some medication for the sensations in her head that the concussion caused and she had talked to her family. Hermione cradled an ice pack to her forehead too, as was recommended by the doctors that had checked her injuries, along with some rest once she was done with the visitors. After discussing what had happened and what she could piece together, she was in tears again, just at the thought of this happening. Through her choked sobs though, the three adults could make out a few constant words.

"Harry? How is Harry? Please, I want to see him." She would say over and over until she fell back to sleep and let the ice pack slip off her head. David looked at his parents with sadness in his eyes, though he was overjoyed to see Hermione and to know that she would fine and back to her normal self in about 8 weeks.

"When he gets out of surgery, I need to see Harry. He was protecting Hermione the whole time. He told her to run whilst he stopped that crazy man, and now he's paying the price for it." His parents understood and nodded along slowly. David took his daughter's hand in his and leaned back in his chair, eventually falling to sleep, still holding her hand.

\--AtToS--

When Harry eventually woke up, he had a mask strapped to his face and a stiff upper body. He tried to move, but a nurse rushed over and told him otherwise.

"Sir, you need to calm down. You're alright. You need to keep that mask on, your windpipe is still bruised but has had surgery and will be sore for a while. And don't be trying to lie down without some assistance because you have two broken ribs and lying down could make them come out of place before they heal. If you must talk, talk slowly and softly, got it? Do you need anything else in the meantime?" He slowly nodded and pointed to his phone lying on the bedside table. She passed him the phone and he dialled the number of Mr Arthur Weasley. The tone rang a few times before he picked up.

"Harry, lovely to hear from you. Do you need anything?" He said jovially. Clearly, he didn't know what had happened. Harry tried to croak out a response, but it was too quiet to be heard. The nurse gestured to the phone and then herself. She was asking if she could talk to them for him. He nodded and handed her the phone.

"Hello, who is this speaking please?" She asked as he replied with his name. "Ah, yes, Mr Weasley. I'm afraid Harry Potter and his friend were attacked earlier this evening. They're both at the hospital and they will both be fine. However, I think he would like to see you if it is alright." Harry nodded along with her words, letting her know she was right. "Yes, yes, the visiting hours are not ending for another two, so you can come and see him. Though, we don't allow more than four visitors at once." When she had finished and hung up, she handed the phone back to Harry, who put it on the bedside table and nestled as comfortably as was possible into the upright pillow to support his back.

"I'm afraid you might be here for a while, Mr Potter, so I have asked them to bring you some changes of clothes. And don't worry, you'll be fine in a few weeks as long as you stay here and do what we need you to do. Sound good?" He made a thumbs-up gesture but quickly held up a finger to indicate one more thing. She leaned in and listened carefully.

"Please can I see Hermione Granger? I need to know that she's ok."

\--AtToS--

Molly Weasley walked up to the receptionist's desk with Arthur and Ron in tow, looking frantically around for Harry and holding his bag of things.

"Yes, we're here to see Harry Potter?" The lady at the front desk nodded and searched up his ward and bed number.

"Right, he's in the… Raven's ward with… Nurse Pomfrey in bed 5. She should be done and you can go and see him now." She smiled at them. They nodded in thanks and walked down the hallway until they reached the place where the lady had said he was staying. With horror they saw Harry's figure, sitting upright in his bed, reading some fiction book that someone had gathered for him from the shop. He had a piece of breathing apparatus attached to his mouth and nose, along with multiple cuts, bruises and scars along his face. His neck was an angry puce colour and the bruises looked like his neck had been run over by a truck. They could see the small area where Harry's neck had fallen in a bit, just below his adam's apple. He moved his head up and saw them all, horrified and saddened by his disfigurement, but he still smiled to them, weak as it was.

"Oh, Harry. How are you feeling?" Was all that Molly felt she could ask. With the tube connecting to a piece of technology that kept his breathing steady and the marks around his neck, she could only guess that he was just short of agony. He put the book down and folded over the edge of the page to mark his spot, then put it down and looked at the three Weasleys. They heard his voice, raspy and strained, but they understood him nonetheless.

"Better than before. They said I have a treatable laryngeal fracture, bruised oesophagus and two broken ribs, but aside from that, I'm just peachy." He smiled despite the heart-shattering words that he said. "Thank you for coming. I didn't really know who else to call. My Aunt and Uncle definitely wouldn't have picked up and I think Hermione needs her parents more than I need them. I'm not saying that you were my last choice, but still, I'm grateful." Molly sat next to him and brushed some of his fringe away from his forehead.

"Harry you're family. You didn't have to ask." Ron said, surprisingly sincere from the guy who, just yesterday left his clothes all over his flat whilst having a casual sex romp with his girlfriend on their sofa. Arthur and Molly agreed with Ron wholeheartedly.

"So, let's talk about something other than the injuries right now. How was your date with Hermione?" Molly asked with a motherly smile. Ron sniggered and Arthur just sat in thought next to the bed.

"It was great actually, before the… well, you know. We had steaks from the Blue Rook, actually the place I work. But I think Hermione knew that and wanted to embarrass me anyway." He said with a grin before he sat back and took a very deep breath. "Apparently, she thinks that it's funny that I'll be made fun of when I go back to work, just for going on a date there with her. But you know what, I don't really care. It was a special night and I- I love her." He took another deep and shaky breath. "You'll go and see her after you leave me, won't you? If you do, please tell her that I'm fine and that I miss her." Mrs Weasley was still very teary, had been since she saw him but Arthur had stayed pretty silent the whole time, but he agreed and promised that they would be back at the same time tomorrow. Then his face turned more serious than Harry had ever seen it before.

"Harry, I want you to know that that man will be brought to justice. I still have a friend in the Police who told me that they have Mitchell Johnson in custody and will be holding him whilst a court date is set. He will go to prison, Harry. I promise." The boy nodded and said his thanks and goodbyes before they left the hospital ward.

\--AtToS--

Just minutes later, the three red-heads showed up outside the room that Hermione was in and saw Mr Ganger and his parents in there with her. They also looked to be saying their goodnights, just as the Weasley's had with Harry. After walking out and seeing them, the Grangers gave them their thanks for coming.

"It's alright. Hermione is as much family as Harry is to us. Are we allowed to go and see her now?" Hermione's family nodded and went on their way, down the hall where the Weasley's had just come from.

The ward was far more packed than Harry's was, but was also just as quiet considering that this was the head injury area. Hermione spotted them and their signature red hair from the furthest bed from the door and waved with the arm that wasn't in a cast. They walked over and hugged Hermione, careful not to touch her arm or shoulder.

"Thanks for coming, but you really didn't need to. I'll be fine in about eight weeks, back to normal." Hermione reassured them, though they only gave her back sceptical looks. Ron spoke up and asked the question that was on all three of their minds.

"So, if you're back up to scratch in eight weeks, how long is Harry going to be here?" Hermione shook her head worry.

"What do you mean? How badly is he hurt? Please tell me." It wasn't a request. Arthur was the only one strong enough to answer.

"Hermione, sit down for this. He will be fine but he is quite banged up." Hermione gave him a look that pleaded to him to say how badly. "He had two broken ribs, a treatable fracture in his larynx and a bruised oesophagus. Hermione, whatever you're thinking, don't blame-," Hermione started to break down upon hearing Harry's extensive injuries. She cried and let silent tears fall down her face.

"Harry told me to run while he stopped that crazy person from attacking me. I didn't listen to him- and- and he got worried about me, and he didn't see that man running up to him and smash him into the car. It is my fault, so don't try to convince me otherwise." Hermione sniffled out. The consoling words of Mrs Weasley were enough for anyone to stop crying and it certainly worked for Hermione in that moment.


	9. The Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own the story or the characters of Harry Potter, this work is entirely fan-made. The rights to everything Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. I also have no beta or proof-reader (at least not a human one) so expect some mistakes from time to time.
> 
> I am extremely sorry for the rather slow update, but I am literally drowning in college work at the moment and I've barely found any time to write as it is. Also, given that there are no exams here, due to Covid-19, I am expected to and have to work practically twice as hard on my coursework and essays, so there might not be another update until this time in March, or later. :(

Hermione had been in the hospital for two days now, and she still hadn't been allowed to see Harry. All that she had heard since the Weasleys left was that Harry was under a strict watch and would be in the hospital for far longer than she was. In fact, she was due to leave that day, provided that she had someone to pick her up and drive her home. Her arm would be staying in a cast for a good few weeks, but until then, all she needed to do was relax and get on with her life.

Her Dad and Grandpa had both offered to pick her up, with varying degrees of insistence, but on his mother's chime-in that Donald could do it, David relented and sagged into the sofa, watching the Nissan pull out of the driveway and onto the road. As he peeked through the blinds, he sighed and returned the look of apprehension that his mum gave him.

"I know that she will be fine, you don't have to worry about her that much. She's a smart and capable young woman, who has a boyfriend who loves her very much. I doubt that Harry would have taken that beating for her if he didn't feel that way. I know that most couples wouldn't even do that." Matilda said softly, stroking her son's hair, the one thing that could always do to calm him down. He sighed again. He knew that she was completely and utterly correct on every account, but it made him worry no less.

"I just think about how all of this shit has happened to her. Me, fine. I could deal with it. I've lived a long enough life so far to understand that it could happen to anyone… but to have it happen to my daughter, not even 19 yet. It hurts more than I can say." He was close to tears again, for the third time that week. "Hermione means everything to me, she represents everything that I have ever worked for, everything I've done as a human, a- a father too. Now she goes and gets attacked by a simple matter of being on a date with someone who was doing the right thing." His knuckles started to turn white from gripping the sofa too hard.

\--AtToS--

"I know that this life can be cruel, insulting and borderline abusive to people. But Hermione? MY DAUGHTER? She doesn't deserve a single shred of unhappiness or pain and just when she gets what she's been wanting to have since she was 12 years old, she nearly gets everything stripped away- as if it's some sort of punishment. I swore to myself that I would protect her and love her and I haven't been able to do enough. Her mother treats her like a blank slate to instil her divine ideals onto, the love of her life gets assaulted half-to-death with her watching and getting caught in the crossfire. I- I just can't help but feel like all I've ever done for her means nothing after a mistake this large." David was sweating with anger that mingled with the streams flowing from his eyes.

"None of this is your fault, David. Not a single piece of the blame for any of this should be thrust upon you. This is not your fault." The therapist repeated. She had been seeing David since the week that Hermione had gotten home. She had helped him come to terms with the fact that Hermione was not going to be able to be protected by him forever and that she would have others who she could count on. It didn't make it easier for the father, especially since he had been away from Sarah and their house. Word had it that she had not come out of her house for work in days, instead choosing to have all the lights off, curtains drawn and doors locked every waking hour. The neighbours could have worked out by now that they weren't in a good spot at all.

"I know that this isn't the only thing that bothers you about your situation. Please, go on if you're comfortable." She encouraged. Her voice was the only thing that he could hear besides the rustling of the bushes outside the window: they made him feel larger as if he could impact things. He wasn't truly alone, or helpless, but he did need help first, then he could become stronger.

"Well, I have mentioned my wife, Sarah, before have I not?" She nodded. "Well, she and I have been… off. I know that's vague but I can't really describe us any other way. Ever since Hermione started to take her electives in Year 9, she's been trying to mould Hermione into a mini version of her. And I suppose that would have been nice, you know, to keep dentistry and medicine in the family but I know that she wants to and can be so much more. Sarah just puts her down, week after week, filling in the holes that she made and fulfilling opportunities that passed her by. It just- it hurts to see them so different. If I didn't know better, then I'd say that Hermione wasn't her daughter very often. But blood is blood, we can't change that." He took a huge sigh. Silence occupied the room again. His long breaths told the therapist that he was done for today, even if he wanted to talk more. He didn't need any more problems brought up or identified. He needed to get home and see his daughter.

"I think we should stop there for today. Go and see Hermione, alright. I'll see you next week, same time, the same place?" She asked with optimism. He mulled it over before quickly realising that he had no other logical answer than to agree.

\--AtToS--

As Hermione sat, restless in her Grandpa's car, she thought only of Harry. How Harry had saved her, how he had taken her on that date, how she couldn't see him. He had to endure all of the terrible things in his life for a meagre chance at happiness.

"It isn't fair, Grandpa." She whimpered, trying not to break down again. Over the last two days, it had worse not seeing Harry than seeing him beaten, bruised and broken. Just a glimpse of him, a word of comfort, of assurance, was all she needed. "Why did this happen to him? It isn't fair at all!" Hermione spat out, thinking of the piece of human filth that had put them both in the hospital. She leaned back in the seat and huffed, letting her anger dissipate until it was just sadness. Her Grandpa sighed with a deep exhale through his nose; it was tough to see his only grandchild like this, as normally she was so passionate and full of energy. Now she was defeated, she had found the one thing that could beat her, the unfairness and harsh reality of life.

"No one should have to go through that, Hermione. But, I know that you will both come back from this, better and more connected than before." She was about to protest and scowl, but she thought it rude and that it would be prudent to hear him out properly. "It'll seem hard, maybe even impossible at times, and yes, this won't be the last terrible thing to happen, because, unfortunately, wishes, and magic… they aren't real, and they can't fix anything for us. All I know is that, after Britain went to war, twice, we bounced back, and now, you're experiencing something far more personal, but no more tragic than what happened then…" Hermione scoffed and winced at the same time. "Point is, we always come back stronger and more in love, than ever. Trust me on this." They pulled into the driveway, seeing the light of the sun bounce off the windows of the house.

"Funny, isn't it? The sun shines brighter than ever, and I'm on my summer holiday, and the only person besides my family that I can spend it with is in the hospital with no chance of getting out in three weeks. I think the universe might have a slight grudge against me for something. Or maybe it just hasn't kicked all of us around enough yet." Hermione commented cynically to no one in particular. She grabbed the door with her non-cast hand that her grandpa was holding open and took her bag of things, including the necklace that she had worn on her date four days ago. It sat just in view, half underneath a cardigan and some underwear which her grandma had packed for her stay in the hospital, taunting her with the view of the red gem set into it which reminded her of the horrible beating. Donald gazed at her with sorrow but tried to cheer her up a bit anyway.

"Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, Hermione, when you only remember, to turn on the light." She still wasn't happy, but a brief smile flitted across her face, though it was gone as soon as it appeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who have stuck with this despite my spotty schedule that my college life hates with a burning passion, I thank you, sincerely. From the bottom of my stressed-out heart, thank you!


End file.
